Crash and Burn
by NovelistServant
Summary: It was supposed to be the two of them forever. Stan and Ford. Ford and Stan. Wherever they went, they went together. But then they got a new neighbor and everything changed. Rated as such for mature language and themes.
1. Hello

_**April 5th, 1960**_

Filbrick had his arms crossed over his chest as the man before him looked over the little wooden piano. It was old, and that was pretty much the only reason the instrument was in the pawn shop. Filbrick didn't know or care much about pianos, but his new neighbor sold them for a living, so he had invited Mr. George Cece to give his professional opinion on the instrument to see if Filbrick got a good deal.

Now, Filbrick Pines didn't give a flying fish about the color of a businessman's skin. Money was money, no matter where it came from. He never really rubbed elbows with blacks in the past, but he didn't look down on them. He did believe that all men were created equal, but sometimes it was best to keep to yourself. Still, if this man was willing to do business, then he was willing to ignore the fact that Mr. Cece was black.

And not just black, either, but really black. One of the darkest skinned humans Filbrick had ever met. He was a few inches taller than Filbrick and was slightly bulkier, too. He had long black hair tied in dreadlocks and a bit of facial hair. He didn't wear a suit like Filbrick did, but he did wear dress-pants and suspenders, a button-up shirt, and a red bow-tie. He looked professional enough, especially when he was guiding a rough hand along the piano and testing its durability.

"Well," Mr. Cece said as he straightened up. "I can tell ya that this thang is older than sliced bread."

"But how much is it worth?" Filbrick asked from behind his sunglasses.

George looked at the white man and found he didn't care for the fact that he wore sunglasses indoors, like he was trying to hide something. He found it to be rude, but maybe Mr. Pines's eyes were sensitive to light or he had a scar or a blind eye or something. George was as polite as he could be without being a kiss-ass and answered with, "I'd say $500."

Filbrick was satisfied to hear that. He had paid $300 for it. He held out his hand for Mr. Cece to shake. "Thank you, sir, for coming in today."

Mr. Cece shook Filbrick's hand and smiled. "It was my pleasure, sir. Us store-owners gotta stick together."

Filbrick bit his tongue to keep from grunting in disapproval. He let go of the man's hand and asked, "How much do I owe you?"

Mr. Cece waved his hand and said, "Ya owe me nothin'. Just make sure this little treasure goes to someone special. She's a beauty."

Filbrick crossed his arms over his chest disapprovingly. Mr. Cece appeared to be older than Filbrick, but that didn't mean he was a better businessman. Perhaps he was trying to start off on the right foot by being polite, but as far as Filbrick was concerned, having good manners could only get you so far in the real world.

Just then, the front door opened and a little bell dinged to alert the room of a little girl's presence. She was black, like Mr. Cece, and wore a purple t-shirt, overalls and sneakers. She wasn't the first little girl Filbrick had seen wearing pants or shorts or overalls, but that didn't mean he liked it. The little girl ran up to Mr. Cece and held his left hand before talking to him.

"Grandpa, I finished my chores."

George ruffled his granddaughter's short, curly, unruly hair with a smile. "Thank ya, Half-Pint." George looked up at Filbrick and said, "Mr. Pines, this here my granddaughter, Hephzibah. Sweetheart, this here Mr. Pines, our new neighbor."

"Nice to meet ya, Mr. Pines." Hephzibah greeted with a waved hand.

Filbrick dipped his fedora politely. A lady was a lady, no matter her skin color or age. "Pleasure's all mine." He heard the back door open and he turned to see his wife entering the store.

She smiled at their guests and walked up to join her husband. "Welcome! I'm Caryn." She said in her thick New Jersey accent and held out a hand to shake.

"Thank ya, Mrs. Pines. George Cece." He introduced and gently shook her hand. "N' this here Hephzibah."

Caryn tucked some dark-brown hair behind her ear before resting her hands on her knees and bending down to talk to the little girl. "Well, well! Aren't you beautiful! How ya likin' your new home?"

Hephzibah blushed at being called beautiful by such a pretty woman and traced her little fingers over her grandfather's palm to give her something to do. "I like it very much, thank you, Mrs. Pines."

The physic smiled and stood up straight. "I hope y'all are settling in nicely."

"Indeed, ma'am." George said. "We come from a small town in the woods by the Pacific, n' it's a nice change to be in a big city. N' my little waterbug here has been itchin' ta get in the water." He added, putting his arm around Hephzibah's shoulders.

"Well, just be careful." Caryn warned the little girl. "It's called Glass Shard Beach for a reason."

"Yes, ma'am."

Caryn got an idea and looked at George. "We're having a roast tonight for dinner. You and your family should join us!"

Filbrick's jawline tightened. He was not racist (at least in his mind). He didn't think whites were better than other races or think blacks were worse than other races, but there were some things that just weren't appropriate. However, Filbrick's pride reminded him that he owed the man something, and since he wouldn't take money, providing a meal would be the way to ensure he didn't owe George anything.

George smiled and said, "Oh, we couldn't impose…"

"It ain't imposing if you're invited." Caryn interrupted gently. "Now, c'mon, they'll be mashed potatoes and cabbage and rolls and I'll even make a pie for the occasion."

George looked down at his granddaughter, who licked her lips at the sound of pie. The move across the country had drained his wallet and things were tight enough as it was. Back home, they had gotten to a point where they were eating only baked beans and bread, and things didn't seem to change in New Jersey quite yet. Not to mention that it sounded nice to get to sit at a table with neighbors, allowing the Cece family to start off on the right foot.

"Well, Mrs. Cece does love a good roast…"

"Then we'll see ya back here at six!" Caryn said cheerfully.

George nodded and shook both Mr. and Mrs. Pines hand in parting. "We'll see ya then."

"Bye." Hephzibah said as she waved her hand and walked with her grandfather out of Pines' Pawns.

"Did you have to invite them to dinner, Caryn?" Filbrick asked without looking at his wife.

She glared at her husband and said, "No, but I wanted to. They're in a new town and don't know anybody. Besides, when do you ever care who joins us at the dinner table?"

"I don't."

Caryn snarled in disbelief and left to get things ready for dinner. Filbrick grunted when his wife went upstairs for their home and resumed his work in the pawn shop. He glanced up at the clock and saw that it was almost three. His sons would be getting out of school soon, not that they ever came home right after, anyways.

True to her word, Caryn baked a cherry pie while she worked on dinner, wanting everything to be perfect for her guests. The hours ticked by a little too fast for her liking and soon it was fifteen minutes before six. Where the hell were the boys?! Caryn mixed the melted butter into the potatoes and heard the back door from the hallway open and close. She recognized the light footsteps as her youngest sons.

"Boys, get in here!" She called as she slipped off her apron and washed her hands clean of oil and sweat.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the pair of twins run into the large room and wait for further instruction. One of her little angels was a free spirit wearing a red t-shirt and jeans, a bandage on his arms from when he fell down the stairs last Thursday. Her little genius wore a black t-shirt, a brown jacket and blue jeans. He was always cold.

Stanford had his hands behind his back bashfully and said, "Yes, Ma?"

"We have company coming over tonight for dinner," She explained as she dried her hands. "And I want you two on your best behavior."

"Is Uncle Jack coming?!" Stanley asked excitedly. Caryn's older brother, Jack, lived in New York, but often came down to visit and would give the boys noogies, tell stories, and always brought each kid a present, even if it was just a baseball card or a candy bar.

"No, it's our new neighbors."

"New neighbors?" Stanford asked. "The ones across the street?"

"That's them." Caryn answered and hung the towle back up by the sink. "They've got a little girl about your age, and I want you two to make her feel welcome."

"Okay." Stanford said and ran off for he and Stanley's shared bedroom, with his brother at his heels.

"Wash up for dinner, boys!" Caryn yelled after them as she checked on the roast.

"Yes, Ma!"

"And where the devil is Sherman?!"

"We don't know, Ma!"

Caryn sighed and used a big spoon to scoop up some of the broth and pour it over the meat. Sherman was almost never in the house, usually coming home at the last possible moment. Yes, the twins loved to explore, and as long as they were back by dinner that didn't worry Caryn, but Sherman often missed dinner and stayed at his best friend's house. Which, again, was fine - Daniel's family was perfectly lovely - but she wished her family could eat dinner together more often.

Caryn turned down the stove and put a lid over the roast. She looked at the clock and saw that it was already five minutes before the hour. She knew everyone would want to eat as soon as possible (she was hungry herself) so she popped the rolls in the oven, estimating that they would be done by the time they were all set to eat. Just as she turned on the timer for the rolls, her husband and eldest son came up the stairs from the pawn shop. Good, at least they were all home.

Only a minute after the hour, and there was a ring from the back door. The side door from inside the shop opened to a stairwell that led to the hallway that hosted the bedrooms and the bathroom, but the door behind the building, the one facing the alleyway, opened to another stairwell that led to the living room, kitchen and dining area. Caryn went to welcome their guests while the rest of the family waited in the house.

George smiled and shook Caryn's hand in greeting, and then introduced his wife. While George was slightly bigger than Filbrick, Georgina was almost a head shorter than Caryn. She had long, thin dreadlocks that fell behind her shoulders and shined in the little light the homes of New Jersey provided. She had a few wrinkles on her face, showing that she was indeed old enough to be a grandmother, and she wore a red-orange dress with long sleeves and a pair of brown heels.

"Nice to meet you, Mrs. Cece." Caryn greeted and looked down at Hephzibah, who had been changed out of her overalls and into a little white-lace dress and black shoes. "My, you all look wonderful! Come in, come in!"

Thanks were exchanged and Caryn led the way up the stairwell and into the living area. The men instantly shook hands and George introduced Georgina to Filbrick, while Caryn introduced Hephzibah to the boys.

"Hi, I'm Hephzie." The little girl said with a smile and a wave.

Caryn was skeptical about her children. They were good kids, but they all had a habit of pointing out the obvious and she hoped they would be good for Hephzibah. She knew that adults would be floored over the fact that their guests were black, but children don't see race the way adults do, and the Pines kids knew what it was like to be different. As she had hoped, none of them said a word.

Stanley smiled and said, "Hi! I'm Stan. That's Shermie, and this is my twin, Ford!"

"Cool!" Hephzibah awed. "I've never met twins before! I wish I had a brother."

Stanley shoved Sherman closer to Hephzibah and said, "Take him."

Sherman glared at his little brother. Caryn rolled her eyes and let the kids socialize while she checked on dinner.

"How old are you, anyways?" Sherman asked.

"I'm almost seven."

"I'm ten." Sherman said proudly, his chest puffed out.

"Hey, we're six!" Stanley said as he pointed to himself and his twin. "Will you go to our school?"

Hephzinah shrugged. "I dunno. I've never been to school."

"Never?"

"Never ever." Hephzibah said, shaking her head.

"Alright, kids, dinner!" Caryn called from the dining area.

Hephzibah followed the three brothers to the table and sat next to her grandmother. Usually the Pines family sat at a round table, but it was a special kind of table that could pull out into an oval shape and fit more people if needed, and that's what it was tonight. Caryn had the food laid out on the table, and once everyone was seated, Filbrick invited Geroge and Georgina to dig in.

Mr. Pines dipped his own plate while Mrs. Pines fixed Shermie his plate, then Ford, then Stan, and then her own. Mrs. Cece fixed Hephzie her place before fixing her own, and Mr. Cece fixed his own plate. Then the adults talked and talked while the children sat and ate quietly; children should be seen, not heard, at the dinner table.

Mostly the adults talked about boring adult-stuff, so Hephzie tuned them out as she ate. She didn't remember the last time her Grandma made a roast! Mostly they had either oatmeal or beans and bread. She liked oatmeal and beans and bread, but she loved roast! It felt good to have something different. She ate her roast and wanted to tell Mrs. Pines that she loved it, but she knew not to talk unless talked to. She quickly ate her mashed potatoes and her roll and even ate her cabbage without complaint. It was all really good and once her plate was empty, she was happy to hear her grandmother ask her,

"Would choo like seconds, Hephzibah?"

"Yes, please."

Grandma dipped her a second-helping of everything and gave Hephzie her plate.

"My, I wish my kids ate like that!" Mrs. Pines laughed as she glanced over at Stan, who was picking at his cabbage, and Shermie who was chewing it like it was poison. Ford had eaten it first and then nearly drained his glass of water to wash out the taste. Now he was free to enjoy his roast, roll, and mashed potatoes.

"Yup, that's our Bottomless Pit." Mr. Cece laughed. "N' thank you, Mrs. Pines, for the meal. Everythang is delicious!"

"Yes, ya must give me the recipe!" Mrs. Cece begged.

Hephzie looked over at Ford, who sat on her other side, and smiled at him when their eyes met. He smiled back and looked away. He seemed shy. That was okay. Hephzie looked over at Stan and smiled at him. He darted his eyes at the adults and then made a silly face, his tongue poking his cheek and his nose crunched up. Hephzie held her breath and tried not to laugh by eating some mashed potatoes, but it was hard not to laugh. Stan was funny!

Encouraged and wanting to make mischief, Stan stuck out his tongue and lowered the skin under his eye with one hand. Hephzie covered her mouth as she swallowed her food and tried really hard not to laugh. It was just so hard! She looked over at the adults to see if they noticed, but they were too busy talking to care about the kids. Stan made silly face after silly face to try to get Hephzie to laugh. She tried to finish eating her dinner quietly, but at one point she had to set her fork down and cover her mouth with both hands, or risk laughing and interrupting the adults' conversation.

Caryn was aware of the commotion, but did nothing about except glace over here and there. It made her smile to see her little free spirit became fast friends with the new girl. Finally, when Stanford and Sherman had finished their food and it looked like Stanley and Hephzibah couldn't eat anymore, Caryn waited until there was a pause in the conversation to say to the children,

"Kids, you may be excused."

Stan hopped off his chair and grabbed one of Hephzie's hands. "C'mon, let's go play!"

"Okay!"

Stan ran with Hephzie and Ford into the twins' bedroom while Shermie went into his room to read his Powerman comics.

Ford opened the door and let Hephzie in. Their room seemed small thanks to the mess and the bunk-bed against the wall, but Hephzie awed at all the toys and games that littered the floor. Her eyes were glued to the bunk-beds, thinking they were the coolest thing in the universe.

"Wow!" Hephzie said and ran to the bunk-beds and climbed up to the top so she could hang upside-down, her hands pinching her dress so it wouldn't fall over her head. "Cool beds!"

"Thanks." Ford said.

"Whatcha wanna play?" Stan asked as he looked around the bedroom for a board game. "We got Connect Forty-Four or Battle Chutes and Ladder Ships or Go Fish."

"Oo!" Hephzie said as Stan opened the nightstand drawer for a deck of cards. "Let's play Goldfish!"

Stan opened the box and started to shuffle the cards while Hephzie climbed down.

Ford sat on the floor next to his brother and said, "Uh, I think it's 'Go Fish'."

"I think it's 'Goldfish'." Hephzie said as she sat on her knees in between the two brothers, completing the circle; she wasn't correcting Ford or trying to start an argument, she was just stating her opinion. "Ya know, like ya have to grab a goldfish?"

Ford held his chin. That did make sense, but… "I think it's 'Go Fish', like 'you can go grab a fish'." Ford paused for a moment and then asked, "Isn't it?"

Hephzie shrugged. "I dunno."

"Well, whatever it's called," Stan said as he dealt out the cards, one at a time, until each player had seven. "I'm still gonna win!"

"You know the rules?" Ford asked their new friend.

"Uh, hu." Hephzie said with a nod.

"Ladies first." Stan said as he laid out the pool of cards and picked up his own deal.

Hephzie picked up her cards and the game began. "Gotta three, Stan?"

"Go Fish."

"I still think it's 'Goldfish'."

"How about we just say, 'Go Fishing' from now on." Ford offered with a giggle.

Hephzie and Stan nodded. Ford was always coming up with good ideas. Hephzie picked up a card, but it was not a three, so Ford went next.

"Stan, got any sixes?"

"Go fishing."

Ford looked down at his hand as it reached for a new card. Having six fingers didn't used to bother him, until he started going to school and the other kids started to make fun of him. He didn't want Hephzie to make fun of him too, he liked having a new friend, so he had tried all evening to keep his extra fingers a secret. He took his new card, a seven, and waited for Stan to take his turn.

"Hey, Hephzie, got any threes?"

Hephzie groaned and gave Stan two threes. Stan smiled and added them to his little stack of cards fanned out in his hands. "Ford, got any fours?"

Ford sighed and gave his brother the only four he had.

Stan smiled and asked Hephzie, "Got any kings?"

"Nope. Go fishin'!"

Stan did as he was told and annoyingly found it wasn't a king. His luck for this round was over.

"Have you ever gone fishin'?" Hephzie asked.

"Uh, hu." Stan said with a nod of his head. "Have you?"

"Nu, uh." Hephzie said. "N' ya got an eight?"

Stan shook his head. "Go fishing."

Hephzi grabbed a card from the pile and said, "I wanna go fishin' for real."

"You can go with us if you want!" Stan offered.

"Yeah!" Ford agreed before asking for a card. "It'll be fun! Stan, do you have a king?"

Stan moaned as he handed over his only king.

"I'll ask Grandma n' Grandpa." Hephzie said.

"You live with your grandparents?" Stan asked.

"Uh, hu."

"How come? Where's your ma and pa?"

Hephzie shrugged and frowned. "I dunno where Mom is."

"What about your dad?"

Hephzie shrugged again and looked kinda sad. "I ain't got one."

Ford punched his brother on the shoulder to get him to shut up. Stan winced a little, but understood that he may have asked something that hurt Hephzie's feelings.

"Don't worry about it." Ford said. "Do you have a seven?"

Hephzie nodded and handed over her card. She almost missed the fact that Ford had an extra finger on his hand. Almost. "Wait, ya have an extra finger?"

Ford blushed and withdrew the seven and hid his hands in his cards. "Um, yeah."

"Cool! Can I see?" Hephzie asked in all the excitement, setting her cards down and leaning forward.

Stan looked at his brother and was ready to make Hephzie cut it out if Ford wanted him to. He knew Ford didn't like people to look at his hands, but Ford didn't seem too upset. In fact, he was a little shocked. No one had ever asked to see his hands like that. Usually if someone did, it was like asking to see something gross; they'd cringe or ask in a scared voice, but Hephzie asked happily and was smiling.

Ford put his hands down and let Hephzie see his hands, stretching his fingers apart so she could clearly count them. There were six! Hephzie wanted to hold his hand and feel, but she thought it was too cool to touch. She simply awed and said,

"Wow! That is so cool!"

Ford blushed again and picked up his cards. "Thanks."

"C'mon, ladies, let's keep playing." Stan teased.

"R-Right," Ford stuttered as he studied his cards. "Got any twos, Stan?"

The three kids played Go Fishing all night long, only stopping to eat pie when Mrs. Cece asked if they wanted a slice. Even though Stan won two games and Hephzie won one and Ford didn't win any games of Go Fishing, he had a lot of fun and was really happy to make a friend.


	2. School

Hephzie had never been to school, but she had heard about it from Stan and Ford and the radio-shows she liked to listen to, and she wasn't sure how to feel about it. She knew there would be other kids and she could make friends and she would learn a lot, but she didn't know if she would like it. Whenever Grandpa or Grandma talked about it, they seemed nervous, too. Grandpa tried to explain to her that school was very important and that not everyone got to go learn, so she was very lucky. This made Hephzie feel better and then Grandpa told her that she was going to the same school Stan and Ford were going to. Now she was really excited and wanted to go really bad.

One morning, Hephzie sat in her dress at the table, eating a bowl of oatmeal. She didn't like to wear a dress, but Grandma made her wear one for church and for special occasions, and her first day of school was a special occasion, but Grandpa said she could wear pants any other time if she wanted to. Hephzie couldn't wait for tomorrow so she could wear her overalls again.

Grandpa was listening to the radio as he sipped his coffee. Grandma also listened to the radio as it told the news while she fixed her husband some breakfast. Soon, there was a knock at the door. Grandma growled. "Who is it?!"

"Uh, Stanley and Stanford Pines, ma'am." A small voice answered, which Hephzie recognized as Ford's.

"What choo want?!" She barked.

"Georgina." Grandpa said in a quiet voice.

"We were gonna walk Hephzie to school." Stan called from behind the door.

Grandma huffed and marched to the door. She may have been nice when she was at Pines' Pawn, but Hephzie and Grandpa knew better. She was almost always "grumpy", and now Stan and Ford were gonna learn that, too.

Grandma threw open the door and placed her hands on her hips, towering over the boys as they stood on the little balcony that connected the apartment to the metal stairs. "N' what makes choo think y'all are good enough for my granddaughter?"

Ford swallowed in fear while Stan shrugged. "We're almost seven?" He answered, not sure what the old lady was hoping for.

Grandma tossed her head back and called, "Hephzibah, finish your breakfast!"

"Yes, Grandma." Hephzie said in between spoonfuls of oatmeal.

"Care for some breakfast, boys?" Grandpa offered as Grandma marched off to ready Hephzie's things.

"No, thank you." Ford said politely as he and his brother slowly stepped in. "We already ate."

Hephzie's house was similar to Stan and Ford's house, but very different. The apartment was small like theirs and mostly one room, except their kitchen was blocked off by a wall with a hole in it, like a window. The room had a couch and two rocking chairs and a bunch of boxing that still needed to be unpacked. Hephzie quickly finished her breakfast and Grandma gave her a used brown backpack with a few notebooks, some pencils, some glue and a box of crayons. She slipped it on Hephzie and ran a hand through her frizzy hair.

"Now, be on your best behavior." Grandma said in a low voice. "Be quiet in class, only raise your hand if choo have a question, n' don't go makin' trouble, understand?"

"Yes, Grandma."

"Good. Git."

Hephzie went to her grandfather and kissed his wiskery cheek goodbye before running out the door with Stan and Ford. While Ford and Hephzie walked down the metal stairs, Stan was happy to slide down the long rail and land on his feet victoriously ahead of the two. Waiting at the bottom of the stairs was Shermie.

"C'mon, it's just down there." He said to Hephzie and led the walk to school.

Jefferson Elementary school was cushioned right in between neighborhoods, touching the apartments and small houses in the Lead Paint district and the more "ghetto" area of town, meaning that this was a school with no problem teaching both whites and blacks, well off and poor, nuclear families or not. A handful of schools in the union states were like that, but in New Jersey it was a toss of a coin.

It was about a thirty minute walk from Pines' Pawns and Pianos For People. Ever since the twins started going to school, Shermie would keep an eye on them as they walked to school, also because Daniel drove to school and so Shermie had nothing else better to do. While he walked ahead, Stan and Ford walked next to Hephzie and tried to explain school to her in the best way possible.

"It kinds stinks…"

"But you learn a lot!"

"... and you gotta watch out for the tough kids…"

"But you're a girl, so you should be fine!"

"... and the teacher's really mean…"

"But only if you make farting noises during the Pledge of Allegiance!"

Hephzie held the straps of her backpack and smiled. She was nervous, but she had some friends to talk to, which was nice. "How fast are ya guys?"

Stan puffed out his chest confidently. "Really fast!"

"I'm really fast!" Hephzie informed him. "No one's ever beaten me in a race!"

"I bet I can!" Stan said and stopped walking, his feet just barely touching a line on the concrete sidewalk.

Ford saw this and joined his brother's side, ready to run. Hephzie walked up to Ford's other side and bent her knees, ready to run.

"On three." Stan said. "One, two…" But then he broke into a run before Ford and Hephzie could process his choice.

"HEY!" Ford yelled and ran after him.

Hephzie ran too, and sped past Shermie and ignored his yelling for them to stop. They ran past some other kids that were walking to school, and soon Hephzie was catching up to Stan. they were neck-and-neck for a while, the school just up ahead. Seeing her finish line, Hephzie kept on running, passing Stan, until she made it to the chain-length fence and touched the gate, her heart beating fast and her lungs empty of air.

"I win!" She huffed as she caught her breath.

Stan came next, then Ford. Once the nerdy twin took in a few deep breaths, he yelled, "You cheated!"

"Oops, sorry." Stan said with a shrug, not sounding sorry at all.

While Ford punched his brother and his brother punched back, Hephzie looked up at the elementary school. It was wide and only had one level, but it had a bell-tower that suspended a bell and held a flagpole, which waved a red and white flag and a tan flag. The building had a playground right at the front of the school, which was gated by the chain-length fence. Not a lot of kids were playing, but they were standing around talking. Most of them were white, but a few were black. Hephzie suddenly felt a little nervous and sighed.

Ford noticed this and went up to her. "Hey, it's okay."

Stan put a hand on her shoulder. "Yeah, it'll be fine! C'mon!"

The twins walked Hephzie inside and up to the front desk to figure out who was her teacher. Luckily, it was the same teacher Stan and Ford had, so they happily showed Hephzie how to get to class. The classroom was about half-full when the three walked in. The door a typical classroom: desks lined up and hammered to the floor, bookshelves in the back of the room, a large desk for the teacher up front by the chalkboard, and another red and white flag with a blue square and some stars.

The teacher sat against her desk, her rose-patterned dress matching her red curls perfectly. She made pale skin and a slim figure, her teeth were white like the pearl necklace she wore. Hephzie was a little nervous, but Ford was already walking her up to the teacher.

"Ma'am," He said politely after a little group of girls finished greeting her and went off to take their seats. "This is Hephzibah Cece. Hephzie, this is Mrs. Hayes."

Hephzie held out her hand to shake, because that's what adults did whenever they greeted each other, and Mrs. Hayes took it and shook it gently.

"Welcome, Hephzibah." She said with a smile. "We're so glad to have you with us."

The little girl nodded and allowed Ford to show her what to do. Stan threw his backpack under his desk and sat down, waiting for his brother and his friend to sit down near him. Usually, Ford sat at Stan's right in the middle of the group of desks so he could pay attention without being in the front of the class. There was usually an empty desk right in front of Ford's, and then the front row, so Ford gestured for Hephzie to sit in front of his desk and he even showed her where to put her backpack and how she had a little compartment under her table to hold her things. Once Ford sat down behind Hephzie, she turned and smiled to see that her friends literally had her back.

They didn't have long to talk until the bell rang for class, making Hephzie jump. She watched as some kids ran into the classroom before Mrs. Hayes closed the door and they took their seats. Most teachers made their kids sit in alphabetical order, but not Mrs. Hayes. That meant that the front row was usually filled with a friend-group of white girls, the student's left side of the class was occupied by a group of black girls, and the middle area was filled with black boys and the rest of the seats were taken up by white boys. Not everyone sat by race and gender, but their friend-groups made sure to sit close together, and Mrs. Hayes was okay with that. But she noticed how the other black girls sitting by the windows and her desk while Hephzie was the only one not sitting there. She was surrounded by boys and sat behind a row of white girls, but she didn't seem to care.

Mrs. Hayes smiled as the classroom got quiet and said, "Good morning, class." The kids replied to her and then the teacher went on. "Today we have a brand new student joining us. Would you like to introduce yourself?" Mrs. Hayes asked Hephzie.

Hephzie blushed a little, but she wasn't shy. She stood next to her desk and spoke to the teacher. Stan and Ford paid close attention; she was their friend, but they still didn't know her very well.

"Um, I'm Hephzie Cece." She said. "My favorite color's gray, I love oreos, n'… n' I just moved here from Oregon."

"Well, we're glad you're here." Mrs. Hayes said sweetly and held up a piece of chalk. "Could you write your name on the board, please?"

Hephzie looked down at her black church shoes. "I dunno how."

A ripple of giggles ran through the room.

"Silence!" Mrs. Hayes snapped. "Don't forget, most of you didn't know your alphabet on your first day." She looked down at the shameful little girl and said, "That's okay. I'm sure we can help you catch up."

"I-I can help her, Mrs. Hayes." Ford volunteered as he raised his hand.

He heard a sneer come from behind him from one of the boys in the back. He didn't hear them clearly, but he caught the word "nerd" somewhere along the mutter.

"That would be very nice, Stanford." Mrs. Hayes complimented. "You may sit down, Hephzibah."

Hephzie did and rested her chin on her folded arms. She tried really hard to pay attention in class, but it was hard when she seemed to be the only one who didn't know how to read or write. She knew her alphabet, but she didn't know how to make them come together to make words. She was better at counting than reading, able to count all the way up to twenty, but she couldn't add like the other kids yet.

Soon the bell rang again and it was time for lunch. Stan and Ford were so hungry they forgot about Hephzie for a moment and ran ahead with the other kids for the cafeteria. Hephzie walked slowly and let the other kids pass her. When she finally reached the big room, she was amazed at how many kids there were. Some tables had kids much older than her and some had kids only a year or so older than her. A long line to buy lunch circled the room, but Hephzie didn't get in line. Grandpa had explained to her that she needed money to buy lunch and she didn't have any, so to not go in line but to sit down instead.

Stan and Ford sat at their usual table by themselves and started to unpack their lunch when Stan saw Hephzie looking around for them. He waved and yelled until Hephzie saw him and sat next to him.

"Hey, sorry we lost you." He said as he unpacked his lunch from a brown paper bag. "But we were really really hungry!"

"It's okay." Hephzie said gloomy as she pulled out a notebook and her box of crayons.

She began to color a picture of a flower to try to ignore her friends as they unpacked their lunch. They each had a sandwich, an apple, a bag of chips, a cookie, and a juice box. Hephzie was really hungry, but she looked down at her paper and tried to ignore her tummy as it growled. Stan bit into his ham sandwich and noticed that Hephzie wasn't eating.

"Hey, where's your lunch?" He asked, thinking she forgot it at home. Stan did once and Ma had to come and give it to him.

Hephzie blushed the same way Ford did when someone pointed out his six fingers. "I ain't got one."

Stan looked at Ford and Ford looked at Stan. They were really hungry, so Hephzie must be, too. Without giving it another thought, Stan held out his apple to Hephzie, who was so close to her notebook that her nose almost touched it. Hephzie looked at the fruit and then up at Stan and then back down at the apple again. She knew she probably shouldn't take it, but she was really really hungry, so she slowly took it and bit into it as quietly as possible.

"Thanks."

Stan smiled and ate his sandwich.

Ford opened his bag of chips and sat it in between the three of them. "Here, we can share!" He said happily.

"Yeah!" Stan said and opened his bag and put it next to Ford's so everyone could reach the chips.

Hephzie smiled at her friends and slowly took a chip. It was salty and crisp and really really good. It had been a very long time since she had a potato chip! She took another one and then focused on her apple.

"So what do ya like to do for fun?" Hephzie asked to get her mind off of school. Today hadn't been a very good day.

"We like to go exploring!" Ford answered excitedly as he sipped his juice. "I also like to read books!"

"Books are boring." Stan teased. "Exploring is fun! We do it every day after school!"

"Cool!"

"What do you like to do?"

Hephzie swallowed a bite of her apple. "I like to play music n' I like to sing n' dance."

"Do you play an instrument?" Ford asked.

Hephzie nodded. "Grandpa taught me how to play the piano."

The three continued to talk for the next twenty-five minutes, until the bell rang again and it was time for recess. Hephzie was still a little hungry, but didn't tell anyone. Ford was almost done with his juice when he gave it to Hephzie to finish. She, at first, didn't want to take it, but she was thirsty and took it. It was orange juice and tasted really good.

All the kids ran outside to the front of the school to play. There were slides and swings and jungle-gyms and monkey-bars and a basketball court. There were some tables where most of the girls sat and talked, but some played hopscotch. Hephzie didn't want to play hopscotch or sit and talk with the other girls. Instead, she walked with Ford and Stan and watched as they picked a rusty pair of swings to play on. There were more swing-sets that were newer and nicer, but they were already full. Stan and Ford sat and began to swing, seeing who could go higher. Hephzie stood by a rail so she wouldn't get hit and watched with a smile as the two boys got higher and higher into the air.

As the boys played, Hephzie paid attention to the other kids around her. No one else came over to play or introduced themselves or talked like the other kids did with everyone else. There were some friend-groups that were really big and some were kinda small, but none as small as Hephzie, Stan, and Ford's friend-group. She was doing a lot of thinking, so much thinking she didn't notice Ford getting off the swing until he tapped her on the shoulder and said,

"Wanna swing?"

Hephzie smiled really big and hopped on the swing. Her feet barely touched the ground and she tried to swing herself, but she was too small. Ford stepped behind her and pulled back on the swing as far as he could.

"Ready?"

Hephzie nodded, and Ford let go. She swung up and then back down to Ford, who pushed her and she swung again. Ford had never pushed anybody, he and Stan could always push themselves, so he was afraid of hurting Hephzie, but she soon yelled, "Higher! Higher!" and so Ford had to push her harder. She laughed and he laughed, too; pushing was almost as much fun as swinging. Stan was laughing, too, and it was a lot of fun!

"Ford's turn!" Stan yelled and stopped swinging so his brother could have a turn on the swing.

After a few minutes of Stan pushing Hephzie, she got off and said that it was Stan's turn again. Even though they didn't need to be pushed, Hephzie wanted to push the boys, so she would run back and forth in time to push them, and they all laughed and had a lot of fun! After a few minutes, Ford got off to give Hephzie another turn. This cycle of turns continued until the bell rang and it was time for class.

The first half of the day, Mrs. Hayes would spend it teaching the kids, and then the second half of the day she would let the kids do "independent work", where they had to fill in papers and turn them in before class ended, or first thing the next morning. If you didn't finish your work, you could just take it home and finish it there. Mrs. Hayes gave each kid a worksheet full of addition problems and then a few spelling words to memorize for the quiz the next day. Hephzie's tummy squirmed when she heard "quiz", but Mrs. Hayes had Hephzie come to the teacher's desk so she could get extra help.

She said that since Hephzie couldn't read yet, instead of a quiz, she would have to read with Mrs. Hayes. The teacher explained that if Hephzie tried really hard, she could catch up with the other kids before the school year ended; it was already April. Hephzie agreed to try really hard and so Mrs. Hayes gave her a private lesson on how to add numbers and then gave her the worksheet to try to do on her own.

Even if the work was called "independent work", Mrs. Hayes would let the kids work together or help one another if they were good. The class was very good, so Mrs. Hayes walked around the room to help kids if they needed it and kept them on track. Hephzie worked with Stan and Ford on the math, and thanks to some extra help from Ford, she understood the math questions and was able to turn in her work before the class ended.

When class finally did end, Hephzie, Stan, and Ford walked out of the school by themselves; Shermie would go home with Daniel when Daniel's mom came to pick them up. Once they were out of the school, Stan and Ford looked at each other. They really liked Hephzie and she was their friend, but they wanted to go exploring alone. But they had promised Ma to help Hephzie on her first day. Did that mean they had to walk her home? Or should they invite her to go exploring? They really wanted to go exploring alone.

"Hey," Stan said and Hephzie looked at him. "Ya wanna go exploring with us?" He asked. Maybe they could give it a try.

"I can't." Hephzie sighed. "I gotta go home." Her grandparents had told her to come straight home after school.

"Oh." Stan said and smiled, getting an idea. "I'll race you back!"

"No cheating this time!"

"Yeah!"

"Why do you care? You still won!"

"I still don't want ya to cheat."

"Ugh, fine, on three. One…"

"HEY!"

* * *

"Ma?"

"Yes, Stanley?"

Caryn was washing dishes after dinner while the twins sat and ate pie and Filbrick sat in front of the TV.

"When you pack lunch tomorrow, can I have an extra apple?"

"Yeah!" Stanford said and then asked, "And can I have an extra sandwich?"

Caryn turned to look at her sons as she dried a plate in her hands. "Sure, but why? Is what I'm already packing not enough?" The boys did seem to be eating more at dinner. Maybe they were going through a growth-spurt.

The twins exchanged looks before Stanford sighed and admitted, "No, but what if Hephzie doesn't have a lunch tomorrow?"

Caryn stacked the plate and wiped her hands dry in the towel. "She didn't have lunch today?"

Stanford shook his head quickly. "No! We shared out lunch with her! But I think she was still hungry."

"Me, too." Stanley agreed.

Caryn smiled proudly at her little angels. Growing up, Caryn knew what it was like to be tight on money. When she was a teenager, during the depression, her father had lost his job and before the war, they had to go to the soup kitchens some nights when they couldn't afford dinner. She can remember harboring food and sharing it with her brother, even if it meant she had to go hungry. Caryn felt sorry for Hephzibah and her family. Moses knows the Pines family had its fair share of hard times, but at least they had never gotten to a point where they had to cut out meals.

"Tell you what I'll do." Caryn said and her sons looked at her. "I'll pack a third lunch for her in case she doesn't have one."

Stanford and Stanley smiled, and Caryn could see a bit of relief in their eyes, as if afraid they had done something wrong. "Thanks, Ma."

Caryn shook her head and resumed her chore. "No, thank you, boys, for looking after her."

* * *

The next day was worse than the first day. True, Hephzie could wear her overalls now, but she was struggling in class. She tried her best to learn how to read, but she couldn't quite get it as quick as she wanted to. Mrs. Hayes assured her that it was sometimes difficult to learn how to read and write, but once she got it she'd never forget it. Once all the other children had finished the quiz they had to read, so Mrs. Hayes continued to school Hephzie on how to read and write, starting by writing her name. "Hephzibah" was too long and complicated, so Mrs. Hayes settled on "Hephzie". Poor girl's name had a "ph", and so Mrs. Hayes had to explain to her what most second graders learned: how "ph" made an "f" sound.

By lunch, Hephzie's head was spinning and her stomach rumbled. It was not a good combination and all she wanted to do was go home. But she knew she had to stay. She walked with Stan and Ford, who were both smiling, but she didn't know why. She sat and began to pull out her notebook and crayons again when Stan said,

"Hey, Hephzie!"

She looked up and Stan pulled out a third bagged lunch from behind his back and sat it in front of her. Hephzie stared at it and then stared at the boys, who were both excited to see her reaction to their surprise.

"It's for you!" Ford said happily. "Ma made you a lunch!"

"Open it!" Stan requested.

With trembling hands, Hephzie reached inside the brown paper bag and fished out each item. Today, she had a peanut-butter and jelly sandwich, pretzels, a juice box, carrot sticks, and some sort of white cream she didn't recognize. "Thanks!" Hephzie said and smiled at her friends. "Thanks a lot!"

"You're welcome!" Ford said, just as happy. It felt good to do something nice for her. He didn't quite understand why Hephzie never had a lunch, but he didn't need to. He and Stan were both happy to help their friend.

"What's this?" Hephzie asked as she held up the little lidded-cup of white sauce.

"Ranch!" Ford answered and opened his own cup. "Watch!"

He pulled out a carrot stick from his bag and dipped it in the sauce and then took a bite. He hummed as the delicious taste graced his mouth and Hephzie grinned, excited to try it. She did, and hummed as well. She quickly ate another and started to feel better. Maybe today wouldn't be so bad.

After lunch, the three ran for outside and decided to play tag. Hephzie was the fastest runner, but Ford was the smartest and would sneak up and tag his opponents. They all had a great time, and towards the end of recess, Ford was "it" and chasing Hephzie and Stan, Hephzie was running as fast as she could and soon noticed Ford wasn't chasing her. Maybe he was sneaking up on her! She cautiously turned around as she slowly down and saw him sitting on the concrete, a big blond-headed boy towering over him.

Stan helped his brother up and snarled at the older boy, "Leave him alone, Crampelter!"

"What choo gonna do about it, Loser?" The boy snarled and stepped forward, two other boys by his shoulders. One was short and had light-brown hair while the other was skinny and had bucked teeth.

Hephzie frowned and watched to see what Stan and Ford were gonna do. She didn't know these kids, but the twins did. Ford looked away and had his hands in the pockets of his jacket, meanwhile Stan was glaring daggers at the boy who was twice his size. He knew he couldn't do a thing about it and would probably get another punch in the face, but that didn't mean Stan couldn't be mad.

"Hey!" Hephzie yelled and walked up to them. "Ya heard him! Leave 'em alone!"

The boy called Crampelter sneered at the little girl and said, "Well, well, what kind of freak we got here? What choo dressed like a boy for?"

Hephzie looked down at her overalls and then back up at the bully. "I can dress however I want!" She walked up to the twins and grabbed each of their hands. "C'mon, let's go."

"Oo! Watch out!" Crampelter laughed. "Brown here's got the plague now! Don't let 'em touch choo!"

"Don't call her that!" Stan growled.

"C'mon, Stan." Hephzie hissed and pulled the twins away from the bully.

Before any more insults or punches could be thrown, the bell rang for class. Ford led the way, walking quickly, leaving Hephzie to walk next to Stan.

"Who was that?"

"Crampelter." Stan said in a low voice. He didn't seem angry anymore, instead he put a hand on Hephzie's shoulder and said, "He's just a big jerk. Don't let him get to you."

"I won't." Hephzie promised.

As they walked into class, Hephzie thought about Crampelter and the other boys. Why would they be making fun of Stan and Ford? They were really nice and cool! No one could play cards like Stan, and Ford was always helping people. Maybe Stan was right and Crampelter was just a big jerk with nothing better to do. Hephzie didn't have long to think about it, because as soon as the class settled down to work on their worksheets, Mrs. Hayes called her up to the big desk for her private lesson.

Hephzie tried not to sigh or groan. Her head was already starting to spin again.


	3. Fishing

Ford was different in more ways than one. Yes, he did have six fingers, but he was different in other ways, too.

For one, he was easily the smartest kid in his class. Ford was reading fourth-grader books and was really good at math. He loved to learn, but he hated school. Crampelter and a few other popular kids would make fun of him for his birth defect, and no one wanted to argue with the popular kids and risk getting made fun of, so that meant that Ford didn't have any friends. Also, because he was so smart, he would be teased for being a nerd and them a wimp for not standing up for himself.

Stan didn't have it much better. He was usually made fun of for being a "dumber, sweaty-er" version of his brother. The two, unfortunately, had been pegged as the "Loser Twins" at a young age, and the title stuck. So it was no surprise that they didn't have any friends their first year of school.

But then they met Hephzie. Maybe it was because she was the new kid, maybe it was because they started off on the right foot, or maybe she was just as weird as the twins, but she loved to hang out with them and play and tell stories. She grew attached, and the twins didn't know what to do about it. They were so used to it being just the two of them that having a girl around was alien to them.

Ford was sure that soon she wouldn't want to be friends with them anymore. Soon she'd see how unpopular they were or she'd make better friends, so Ford tried really hard to be nice to her, then maybe she would want to stay friends. On her third day of school, Ford volunteered to tutor Hephzie in the library after school and she agreed. During class, he helped her as much as she could and proved to be a very good tutor. He was patient and always praised her. Hephzie was struggling with her self-confidence lately, but having Ford around helped.

At lunch, the boys had brought her another bagged lunch. Hephzie grinned and thanked them, reaching in to find that Ma had taken the time that day to cut her sandwich into the shape of a star, while the twins had hearts. Hephzie opened her baggie to get to her sandwich and then felt someone tap her shoulder. She turned and saw one of the other black girls in her class had come towards her. She had slightly lighter skin than Hephzie, but her hair was frizzy and black, too, but it was tied in two pigtails that looked like cotton-balls. She wore a pretty pink dress and smiled at Hephzie.

"Hi, I'm Delilah." She said. "You can sit with us if ya want. You don't have to sit with them."

Stan frowned at Delilah while Ford looked down bashfully. He fully expected Hephzie to accept the offer to sit with the other girls, but what he didn't expect was for Hephzie to frown and say coldly,

"They're my friends. I'll sit here, thanks."

There was something about Delilah that Hephzie didn't like. Delilah's tone was cold and Hephzie had a feeling in her gut that told her that this was not a nice person.

Delilah blinked and then formed a crooked smile. "Oh. Okay." And then she went back to her table. Hephzie watched her sit down and start whispering to the other girls, no doubt gossiping about hew new information.

"You don't have to sit with us."

Hephzie turned and looked at Ford. "What?"

"You don't have to sit with us, if you don't want to." Ford muttered, his head low and his hands hidden in his lap.

Stan glared at his brother. He didn't want Hephzie to go away. She was his first real friend; outside of Ford, of course.

Hephzie shook her head. "I wanna sit with ya guys. You're… you're my best friends."

Ford looked up at her in astonishment. No one had ever called him their best friend, aside from Stan, but they were twins; they would always be best friends. But here was a kid who wanted to be their friend, not only that, but their best friend.

Stan smiled and gave her a small shove on the shoulder. "You're our best friend, too, Hephzie."

Ford nodded. "Yeah! We're glad we're friends."

"Me, too." Hephzie smiled.

Ford got an idea and said, "Hey, how about we go fishing on Saturday?"

"Yeah!" Stan said. "Fishing's really good right now. I bet we can catch a fish as big as me!"

"Sounds like fun!" Hephzie agreed. Now she had something to look forward to.

After school that day, instead of running off to go exploring, Ford and Stan walked with Hephzie to the library. It was a block away from the elementary school and was in a big old building that looked like one of those important government buildings.

Ford loved the library. He loved to read books, especially about the ones on science and weird monsters and myths. Stan could read pretty well, but that didn't mean he liked books. However, there was a small section full of picture-books and comic the six-year-old liked to look at while his brother read the books with bigger words.

Today, Hephzie sat at a big table and watched as Ford picked out a book and sat next to her, while Stan sat in a beanbag and read a comic.

"Okay," Ford whispered. "I'll read it to you and you can read along with me."

Hephzie nodded nervously and Ford pointed to the title and read it out-loud quietly. The book was Snow White and it was based off of that movie Hephzie had never seen, but she heard it was good; she had never owned a TV or been to the movies before. Ford slowly read to her and trailed his finger along the words. Every so often, he'd have Hephzie reread a page. She was slow, but she seemed to be learning. Soon Ford had her read a page without any help, and she could read about half the words. She wasn't as good at it as Ford, but she was getting better. It took them a long time, but eventually they reached the "The End", and Hephzie read that part all on her own.

Ford closed the book and patted her back. "You did a great job!" He whispered.

"Thanks." Hephzie muttered.

Stan got up and tossed the comic back on a stack of others. "Can we go now?" He moaned a little louder than wise.

"Not yet." Ford whispered disapprovingly. "Hephzie still needs help with her math."

Hephzie looked away in shame with warm cheeks. "Ya don't have to help me if ya don't wanna. I know ya wanna go explorin'."

"Yeah, but I like math." Ford said and pulled out a notebook to work on. "C'mon, let's work together."

Hephzie smiled and pulled out her worksheet. While the other kids were adding and subtracting bigger numbers, she could only add small numbers, so her homework for the day was to subtract small numbers. Just like with reading, Ford was a good tutor and in no more than twenty minutes, the worksheet was completed. Hephzie happily put it away in her backpack and followed Stan and Ford out of the library.

She turned in her homework the next morning and got it back Friday morning. She got a perfect score.

* * *

 _ **April 16th, 1960**_

George tried to listen to the radio, but his mind was elsewhere. He was thinking about the past month and how difficult things have been for his family. Of course, times have always been hard for the Cece family, but a lot of things were changing, some good, some bad.

For starters, the move from Oregon to New Jersey wasn't easy. The decision to move wasn't easy. Both he and Georgina had grown up in that tiny town in the middle of the woods and that was all they ever knew, except for when George had to fight in the war. George loved growing up in the woods. It taught him how to work hard and how to tend off the land. He had learned how to grow food, how to butcher, and how to hunt and fish. He had wanted to teach his daughter that, but she never allowed him to, and his hopes for teaching his granddaughter those things didn't really exist anymore. Not with it getting so dangerous. Hephzibah had to stay safe.

There was also the sad fact that not a lot of people where the Cece family lived wanted to buy a piano. Buying and selling pianos was a bargain. They were expensive and not a necessity like cars or any other expensive item. It cost a lot to buy one, but you could usually make your money back by selling it, but back in Oregon there wasn't a big enough market to support George's family. So they moved to a place where he thought they would have a better chance at life.

But why New Jersey? Well, that was thanks to Georgina's bickering. When George proposed the idea of moving, she insisted they move to New York, rather than California, so George could sell his original songs, but he put his foot down and told the woman that he would never sell his songs. He wrote those poems for his family, not for the world, but Georgina guilted him and told him he was being selfish. This led to a lot of yelling matches after Hephzibah was asleep. After weeks of arguing, they came to a compromise.

They would move to a city big enough to support them, but not too big where it would be too dangerous. They would move to where, if they changed their mind, they could visit New York City and sell George's songs. They would also move to a Northern city for obvious reasons. After selling their property and every piano on it to a competitor in Portland, they packed up everything they owned in that rusty blue pickup truck and traveled across the country with their little granddaughter playing in the trunk and admiring the views.

Even now, George was unsure if he had made the right decision. He had to pinch pennies like crazy to buy a new place and fill it with pianos. Most of the expenses were covered with the money they had earned from selling their home and other pianos, but they still had to cut down to just two meals a day and only ate beans and oatmeal. George had told himself and his wife that once he got to selling pianos they would be alright. It just takes time to get adjusted to a new place.

While Hephzibah was at school, George had opened the shop and managed to not only sell one piano, not two, not three, not even four, but six pianos! He profited about one-thousand dollars this week, and when he told Georgina on Friday night while Hephzibah took her bath, she leapt into his arms and was spun around like when the couple were young. Good times were coming, they just had to be patient.

The plan for today was to go grocery shopping and then put the rest of the money away. The tricky thing about selling pianos was that you could find yourself with a lot of money for a short time, but then not see a dime for weeks at a time. So to even it out, George had learned how to save smart.

A knock at the door interrupted George's thoughts and he opened it to find the Pines twins standing with fishing poles.

"Good morning, Mr. Cece." Stanford said. "We just came to take Hephzie fishing."

George smiled at the boys and turned to call for his granddaughter. "Half-Pint, the boys are here for ya!"

Hephzibah came running down the hallway in her overalls and gave George a quick kiss on the cheek before running out the door. "Bye, Grandpa!"

"Be home by dinner!"

"I will!"

George watched the three kids run down the metal stairs and on the sidewalk for the beach until they were out of his sight. Every day Hephzibah came home with stories about what great friends she and the twins were becoming. She didn't tell him about the lunches, but she did tell him about Stanford helping her in school and Stanley's funny jokes and how the two played with her and made her feel welcomed. George was thankful to have those two keep an eye on his little girl. That was another reason for moving: here, it was safer for Hephzibah to go to school. Back in Oregon, she could legally; the teachers didn't mind and she wasn't the only black kid that went to the local school, but it wasn't safe, so George held off on her education. He had already lost one little girl. He couldn't stand the thought of losing another.

Meanwhile, Hephzie was sitting at the dock, her legs dangling, and a fishing pole in her hands. Apparently it belonged to Shermie, but Hephzie could borrow it for the day. Stan demonstrated what to do while Ford narrated quietly as to not scare away the fish. The boys were prepared to have to stick the worm on the hook for Hephzie, since most girls didn't like gross things, but she liked how slimy the bug felt on her fingers and didn't mind setting her own trap.

Hephzie sat in between the twins and happily listened to the ocean as it crashed against the dock. She had never seen the sea before moving to Glass Shard, and she liked it. She liked the way the air smelled of salt, the way the sun shined on the water, the way the sand sparkled like glass. She let the sun warm her dark skin and waited for a bite. The three kids whispered stories and jokes to pass the time.

"Hey, Six-Fingers!"

Ford blushed and lowered his head. Stan glared down at the water to refrain from turning around. Hephzie turned her head to see Crampelter and his cronies riding their bikes to the start of the dock.

"What choo losers doin'? Fishing?" He laughed a mean laugh.

"Go away." Stan growled without looking at him, trying his best to ignore him. Maybe he would just get bored and walk away.

"Why don't choo say it to my face?" Crampelter challenged and walked up to them. "Or are choo too chicken?"

Hephzie glared at the blond-headed boy and snarled, "Ya heard him, go away!"

"Stay outta this, Brown." Crampelter said maliciously and grabbed a hold of Hephzie's frizzy, curly black hair and pulled her away from the edge of the dock so he could reach the twins better.

Hephzie yelled out in pain and dropped her fishing pole. Crampelter shoved her away and she fell on the harsh wood, rubbing the top of her head and trying to ignore the stinging on her hand from where she landed on the wood and probably got splinters.

"Hey!" Stan yelled and stood up, wedging his pole in between two planks of wood and standing up to face the bully. "You've gone too far, Crampelter!"

Crampelter punched Stan in the face and yelled, "What choo gonna do about it, Loser?"

Stan held his swollen cheek for a moment before losing his temper and throwing a punch, but the bully was faster and stronger and caught his wrist, held up his arm, and punch him in the stomach. Crampelter threw Stan down and raised a fist to punch him again, but Hephzie acted on instinct and bolted to the big kid and shoved him off the dock. Stan, Ford, and the two friends of Crampelter watched with hanging jaws as the bully splashed in the water and coughed out water as he barely kept afloat. He wiped his face dry of salt water and kicked himself to shore.

"C'mon, guys!"

The other two boys took their bikes to the beach and met Crampelter got on his bike and rode off, his friends behind him. Once they were gone, Ford turned to Stan and asked,

"Are you okay?"

Stan rubbed his stomach as it ached, but found it didn't hurt too bad. "I'm okay." He turned to Hephzie and said, "That was really cool!"

Ford grinned at the girl. "Yeah! He didn't even see you coming!"

Hephzie picked up her fishing pole and smiled. "Let's just keep fishing."

The twins smiled and Stan got his pole and sat, too. The three were mostly quiet until Stan got a bite and Hephzie and Ford chanted "Stan! Stan! Stan!" in support. Stan managed to reel in a big fish, and after Ford pulled out a camera from his jacket and took a picture for evidence, they let the fish go.

"Here, let's take a quick picture!" Ford said and turned the camera so the lens faced himself.

Hephzie scooted closer and Stan stood on her other side, his left arm wrapped around his friends and his right hand pointing to them proudly. Hephzie had each arm wrapped around a boy and grinned so big her eyes were tightly shut. Ford took the picture with the sea behind them, and he would have that picture on his desk for many years to come.

* * *

Later that night at dinner, Ford told the story to the family of how Stan and Hephzie stood up to Crampelter and how they all caught a lot of fish and had fun. He expected his parents to be proud, and while Ma smiled, Pa scowled and said,

"You let a girl fight your battles for you?"

Shermie paused eating his dinner to enjoy the drama happening before him. Ma frowned at her husband, but Stan spoke first.

"No, Pa, we worked together."

"It sounds like you let Hephzibah fight a man's battle while you coward and you got beat-up like a wimp."

"Fil." Ma said through gritted teeth.

"No sons of mine will ever let a girl fight their battles for them." Pa snarled at the twins. "Good thing I've already signed you up for boxing this summer. Once school's over, you'll be working until you bleed if you have to."

Stan and Ford looked at each other. They remembered Pa telling them that they would soon have to start taking lessons since they "didn't know how to fight like real men", but they had forgotten. They still didn't know how to feel about it, but now they were also confused why Pa was so mad.

"Fil, does it really bother you that a girl is tough?" Ma said coldly to her husband.

Pa looked at her and said, "Of course not. Moses knows you're as tough as nails, Caryn, but my sons will not allow a girl to be tougher than them."

* * *

 _ **June 20th, 1962**_

Due to baking in the hot summer sun all day, their skin was taking a trip to Sunburn City; there was no doubt the pain the twins would face soon, but having grown up on the beach, sunburns were as common as the shards of glass that kept the children from taking off their shoes and feeling the sand between their toes.

Ford and Stan had each did their part to pull the wrecked sailboat out of the cave, and now they could sit on their knees by the newfound treasure and paint it's name in shiny black letters. The King of New Jersey had a new mission now, something to work for, something to dream about, something to claw their way towards.

In ten years, they would be grown ups, and free to do whatever they pleased. And if they worked hard, they could, one day, sail away from their dumb town. They could hunt for treasure, get all the girls, and be an unstoppable team of adventurers. But first, they had to grow up.


	4. Love

**_September 10th, 1971_**

Right as the trio started their senior year, Hephzie got a job as a waitress at The Juke Joint. No one pressured her to do it, but the seventeen-year-old thought she should for a number of reasons. One: she was old enough to enter the workforce. Two: the guilt she often felt for using her grandfather's earnings would die is she used her own money. Three: she had to start saving up for college at some point, even if she didn't know what she was going to do yet. And four: she'd get free burgers and shakes.

A little before that, Stan got a summer job hauling boxes at the dock and saved up enough money to buy a car. A red El Diablo that was barely hanging on by a thread and looked one hit-curb away from falling apart. The car was dirt cheap, so Stan spent the next Fall fixing it up until it ran like a champ. He wouldn't need it once the Stan O' War was finished, but until then it was nice to have a ride of his own. Ford and Hephzie also appreciate it, now having a designated driver if needed. They didn't ride on his coattails too much, mostly just had Stan drive them to school and back. He found he didn't mind and the Stanmobile proved to be an excellent investment.

As high school got tougher and things got busier, Stan quit his job to make time for causing trouble and working on the Stan O' War. When the twins weren't in school or working on the boat, they found themselves spending a lot of time at The Juke Joint to hang out with Hephzie as she waited tables. They didn't visit during the summer, too busy with their own responsibilities like boxing lessons, work and their pet project, but one Friday night they decided to stop by for dinner and improve Hephzibah's shift.

The Juke Joint looked like it was stuck in the 50s. Advertisement for products that were a quarter cheaper than they were recently decorated the walls, along with flags and framed records. The checkerboard floor collided with the tan furniture, but the place had some of the best shakes in all of Glass Shard. Stan and Ford walked in and found Hephzie waiting a table towards the back, wearing jeans, a pink shirt, and a white apron with roller skates. She winked at the twins and they sat down at a booth while she dropped off the order.

Hephzie pulled out a chair and sat down for a moment with the back of the chair up front. "Hey, guys! What's up?"

"Nothing but the ceiling." Stan sneered.

Hephzie rolled her eyes.

"How's work?" Ford asked.

"Eh. Could be worse. Could be better, too, I guess." Hephzie said with a shrug. "So, what'll it be? Two Pitts?"

"Sounds great." Ford complimented.

"Be right back." Hephzie put the chair back to its original table and skated for the kitchen. "I need two holes in the ground, n' make 'em deep!" She yelled and soon came back with two glasses full of cold Pitt.

Ford read over the menu while his brother looked around the restaurant. A good chunk of the customers were kids from school or young adults in college. Some were on dates, some were small groups of friends. There was a bar that another girl ran and a pale-skinned dirty-blond waitress waited on one half of the diner while Hephzibah got the rest of the tables. It was interesting to see Hephzie work. She skated gracefully from table to table and could balance a lot of food on her arms. She somehow made every table laugh and it was clear that she was good at her job.

There was one girl among the diner who wasn't a waitress or just passing through. Stan recognized her as that girl who wore pants to school every day. That wasn't uncommon - Hephzie wore jeans rather than a skirt - but the girl really set the fashion trend aflame and a lot of women started to wear pants now. What was her name, again? HotPants McCorkle, right? She had a gorgeous figure and long beautiful brown hair that curled at the bottom and went down to her waist. She had a flower pinned in her hair and wore a cute pink top, oh yeah, and hot pants that didn't even go to her knees.

Stan watched as she danced carefree to the music the jukebox played. She danced pretty well and was really friendly, even doing a twirl when Hephzie came whizzing by.

"Whoo! Dance with me, Momma!" Hephzie cackled as she twirled the brown-headed girl and McCorkle laughed with a beautiful voice.

"Don't work too hard, Hephzie!" She called as the waitress delivered a slice of pie to a couple.

Hephzie skated to the twins and leaned on a booth. "Alright, what'll it be, boys?"

"I dunno, that girl's phone number would be nice." Stan let slip, but then he turned red and slapped his mouth shut. Oh, Sweet Lord, why?!

Hephzie tossed her head back to the dancing queen by the jukebox. "Ya mean Carla?"

Ford laughed and sat down his menu. "Good luck!"

"What's that supposed to mean?!" Stan demanded.

"Stanley, no offense, but you're not exactly as smooth as butter." Ford teased, using a metaphor their mother was very fond of.

"Oh, like you're one to talk." Stan growled..

"Fair enough, fair enough." Ford admitted, holding up his hands in surrender.

"Well, if ya want her number so bad, just go up n' ask her for it." Hephzie advised.

"Wait, just like that?" Stan asked, suspicious that she was setting him up for failure and a slap in the face.

"Sure," Hephzie said as she pulled out a pen from behind her ear and twiddled it in her hand. "Take it from a gal, they'd appreciate a guy bein' straightforward rather than dancin' around the subject. If ya want it, get it, knucklehead."

"Yeah, yeah I will!" Stan said and popped his fingers.

Ford and Hephzie watched as he strolled over proudly to the jukebox and leaned against it, making it more apparent that he was watching Carla dance.

"I'll bet you ten bucks he gets rejected." Ford sneered.

"I'll take that bet." Hephzie said calmly. "Stan's a nice guy with a strong body n' a cute car."

"Would you date him?"

The bell rang by the kitchen and the cook yelled, "Order up!"

"Gotta go." Hephzie said and skated to pick up the order.

Ford entertained himself by rereading the menu. He occasionally glanced over at Stan and Carla, interested to see how it would go. At first, Carla had gone to the jukebox to select a song, of course noticing Stan as he leaned against it and watched her admirably. Ford couldn't hear what either of them were saying, but soon Carla had paid for the right song, started to dance, and then pull Stan away from the machine and started to dance with him.

Hephzie rejoined Ford at that point and leaned against the back cushion of the booth, her hands on her hips and a smirk on her face. "Who knew your brother could dance?" She chuckled at seeing Stan danced swiftly along with the girl.

Ford shrugged. Stan was never one to shy away from a party or the chance to dance, fully confident that he moved swiftly, unlike Ford, who was convinced that along with being born with six fingers, he had also been born with two left feet.

"Right, what'll it be, Fordsie?" Hephzie asked as she readied her pen and pad.

Ford blinked to avert his thoughts back to dinner, his stomach quite empty now, and said to his best friend, "Just a double cheeseburger with no onion and a triple bacon for Stanley."

"Ya want the fries deluxed?"

Ford checked the menu and saw that for a quarter extra one could get the fries covered in chili and cheese. "No thanks."

"Gotcha." Hephzie said and rolled back to the kitchen. "I need a brother with no tears n' a big daddy make it southern n' leave the fries naked!"

Ford covered his mouth to muffle his laugher at hearing Hephzie talk-diner and entertained himself by watching his twin brother danced with HotPants McCorkle. They actually looked pretty good together and both had smiles on their faces. Once the song was over, Carla took a sip of soda from her seat at the bar and chatted with Stan for a bit. Once or twice someone would chuckle and at one point Stan worked back to his table with Carla waving him goodbye.

Stan say down very smugly and said, "And that is how it's done, brother."

"What, you got her number?" Ford asked.

"Nope! Even better! This guy's gotta date!" Stan said triumphantly as he pointed his thumbs to himself.

Hephzie skated over with a tray full of the teenagers' dinner and laughed, "Ha! Ya owe me ten bucks, Ford!" Ford groaned and forked over the cash while Stan happily munched on his burger and Hephzie quickly swiped a fry off his plate and popped it in her mouth. "Anyways, when are ya gonna meet up?"

"Sunday night. Right here." Stan grunted in between mouthfuls.

"Damn, that's my day off."

"That's kinda why I said Sunday."

That earned him a punch on the shoulder and Hephzie got back to work.

* * *

 ** _September 29th, 1971_**

It was raining outside. That was why he was yawning. Yes, that was it. It wasn't late enough for him to be this tired. He looked out the window by the table he had allowed his books and papers to explode on and found it almost too dark to see the rain. Stanford blinked his stiff eyes a few times, then removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of the nose he inherited from his father.

He wasn't hungry, but he was starting to feel a little drowsy. Maybe a quick walk to stretch his legs? That sounded best. And then back to homework. Stanford stood up and stretched, popping his stuff back as he bent backwards and had his polydactyl hands planted on the base of his spine. He pushed in his chair and started his way through the thousands of books organized on the vast shelves. The library was a wondrous place. A great place to go if you need to escape.

Stanford's footsteps could be heard on the marble floor below him and the rain drummed on the domed ceiling above him. He traced a finger over the aged books, being in the science-fiction section, and picked up a title or two that he instantly recognized. _Journey to the Center of the Planet, Gold Earth, 500 Years_ , and _The Big Fish_ to name a few. Stanford couldn't risk getting distracted from his work today, but he might check a fictional book out later for some fun reading.

A distant grandfather clock told the teenager that it was an hour before the library would be closing. He sighed, breathing in the incense, and traveled back to the big table where his stuff was laid out. He sat down and picked up a pencil to finish his Trigonometry. A few minutes later, he heard footsteps and looked up on reflex to see who it was. He was surprised to not see a total stranger, but to see Hephzibah. She appeared to be looking for him, and when their eyes met, she smiled. Stanford smiled back and resumed his work; however, he could feel Hephzibah pull out the chair on his right and sit down, her backpack hung behind the chair.

"I thought I'd find ya here." Hephzibah whispered, resting a cheek in her hand as her elbow rested on the table.

"Is everything okay?" Stanford asked, not looking up from his homework.

"Yeah. Just had nowhere else better to be." Hephzibah answered in an equally quiet voice. "What about ya?"

"Just getting some work done."

"Hm. Wanna grab a bite to eat?"

Stanford wasn't necessarily hungry, but food did sound delicious. Maybe a taco or something. He looked up and threw the teenager in dreadlocks a smile. "Sure. Just let me finish."

"Course." Hephzibah said and got up. She ventured out to the books and searched for an interesting title. She picked up an old brown book and opened it, found it somewhat interesting, and decided that it was worth sitting down with. Once back in her seat, she asked, "Seen Stan?"

Stanford rolled his eyes before finishing an equation. He hardly saw Stanley much these days, given the fact that he was always off with that McCorkle girl. Not that it really bothered Stanford all that much - he liked the quiet and his alone-time - but he could do without how "mushy" his tough brother was becoming. How many times had Stanley gone on and on about their first kiss? How many nights did Stanley send Stanford to sleep by babbling into the darkness about how amazing Carla was and how much fun the two had together? Stanford was happy for Stanley, but it was getting a little irritating.

"Out with Carla."

"Ah." Hephzibah nodded, not looking up from her book.

"He won't stop talking about her." Stanford let slip in a bitter mutter.

"You're not jealous, are ya?"

"No!" Stanford said in a louder voice than wise.

Hephzibah look up from the story in her hands and raised an eyebrow at her; it was hard to tell if she was doing so out of not believing him or disapproval for his raised voice in a library.

"No, I'm not jealous." Stanford said in a quieter tone and explained himself. "It's just… Stan talks about the fact that he's kissed a girl like it's a huge accomplishment. It's… it's becoming a little demeaning."

"I doubt he even knows demeaning of that word."

"Oh my God." Stanford groaned and held his head. Hephzibah chuckled in a way that made Stanford's heart flutter. He smiled as he held his head and he slowly straightened up. "It'd just be nice if Stanley would get off his high horse."

"I get it." Hephzibah sighed and closed the book, not getting any reading done. "It seems like every other guy in school as kissed someone. They make it this big fiasco, n' it's… stressful."

Stanford raised a brow at her. "Stressful?"

"Well, yeah." Hephzibah whispered. "Think about it. Everyone expects their first kiss to be perfect. Didn't Stan do it in the middle of the rain while out for a walk in the park?"

"Something like that." Stanford mumbled.

"I wish I could get mine over with."

Stanford stared at Hephzibah. He gave her a look of complete and utter shock before hissing, "Are you kidding me?"

The dark-skinned woman looked at him with a crooked smile. "What?"

"You've never kissed a guy?"

Hephzibah chuckled as she answered. "No, who would I have kissed?"

Stanford opened and closed his mouth, trying to think of a right answer, or hoping words would just spill out, but no sound escaped from behind his lips, so he pressed them together and got back to work on his studies. Of course Hephzibah had never kissed anyone. As far as Stanford knew, there was no guy to kiss. Still, it was a little confusing as to why. Surely a beautiful young woman like Hephzie with her long black hair and stunning eyes and perfect body could manage to get a kiss if she wanted one. Maybe that was it; maybe she didn't want one. But… she had just said…

Stanford glanced back up at her to find her lost in thought. She closed her eyes for a moment, said something under her breath, sighed, and opened her eyes, looking out at the bookshelves that filled the room.

"What?" Stanford whispered.

"Nothin'."

"No, what?"

Hephzibah looked back at him and leaned into her chair, holding her forearms and looking down at her lap. "I was just thinkin'... maybe… no, it's stupid."

"Come on, you can tell me." Stanford mumbled and sat his pencil down, giving her his full attention as he turned his body and rested his left elbow on the table. "Look, if it makes you feel any better, I've never kissed anyone, either."

"I know." Hephzibah said gently, still not looking at him. "Fine. I was gonna say that…"

"We should kiss?"

Hephzibah looked up at him and looked at him in a funny way. Growing up, Stanford had seen many facial expressions from her. He had seen looks that could kill, a face full of misery and woe, and a smile that could outshine the sun. But here she was, looking at him like she was expecting the absolute worst from him. Hephzibah was tough, like the twins, and was unsure about putting herself out there, but now that she had she seemed to be preparing herself for rejecting or even hatred.

Stanford leaned back in his chair, too, his twelve fingers locked on his lap. "Huh." He gave the idea some thought. He could understand why Hephzibah would have the idea to kiss. It would certainly solve their problem. "I don't think it's a bad idea."

Hephzibah blinked, her face relaxing slowly. "Really?" Stanford was the smart guy; if he thought the idea was worth keeping than it must be.

"It would allow us to get it out of the way." Stanford pointed out, looking at her. "And there is some comfort in knowing we shared our first kiss with someone… special. But not in that way!" He quickly added in a low hiss and shook his hands in front of him as he turned again towards Hephzie.

"No, no, you're right!" She agreed and sat at the edge of her seat. "N' just this once! Never again!"

"Agreed! And we take this to our graves!"

"Totally!" Hephzibah whispered back and bit her lip. "So… we really gonna do it?"

Stanford gave it another thought as he looked at her. Kissing Hephzibah Cece? His old childhood friend? It sounded… it sounded ridiculous, but honestly he couldn't think of anyone better to share his first kiss with. Plus, it would be her first time, too. She wouldn't judge him or reject him or ridicule him. Kissing Hephzibah was risk-free and would allow him to see what all the fuss was about, and Stanford knew the feelings were mutual.

He nodded. "Yeah… yeah, I think we should."

Hephzibah let out a deep breath and looked at him for a moment, as if waiting for something. When Stanford was still, she whispered so quietly he hardly heard her, "So? Lean."

Stanford blinked at the realization and readjusted how he sat in the stiff wooden chair so he was at the edge, close to Hephzibah. Suddenly it hit him what he was about to do and he was a little unsure. It was too late to back out now, but he wasn't sure what he was doing. After all, he had never done this before.

Stanford decided to make this as comfortable as possible. He slowly reached up to touch Hephzibah's cheek so she would see his six-fingered hand coming towards her, but she only smiled in approval and let him touch her smooth, dark skin. Stanford was pleasantly surprised by how soft her cheek was. Hephzibah placed a hand on his shoulder and gave it a kind squeeze to let him know it felt right to her. In return, he gently rubbed his thumb on her cheek.

He had stalled long enough. Stanford leaned in and closed his eyes to respect Hephzibah's privacy. She did the same until their lips met in the middle and were still there for a moment. It was like a lightbulb went off in Stanford's head. It's power was so bright it was blinding him, but now he seemed to understand a little bit what was fuss was about. It felt… nice. But they weren't really doing anything. Their lips were only touching. Stanford wanted to try and see if maybe they should do more, but he didn't want to overstep any boundaries. He opened his eyes to see how Hephzibah was doing and was pleased to find a soft smile on her face, or as much as a smile as her puckered lips would let her. Stanford closed his eyes again and moved his lips so they layered, Hephzibah's top lips in between his own. He could feel her hand slowly moved down from his shoulder to the front of his long-sleeved polo, grabbed the collar of his shirt and slowly pulling him closer.

And that's when it stopped. They both separated, their eyes opening, their lips sealing. Stanford cleared his throat and removed his hand from Hephzie as she let go of his shirt.

"That was…" Stanford looked at her and found it hard to suppress a smile. "... nice."

"Yeah." Hephzibah breathed as she shook her head to clear it. "Yeah, good job."

Stanford chuckled as he started to pack up his things. "Thanks. You, too."

"So, how about Mexican?" Hephzibah asked, concerning dinner.

Stanford smiled. Not only because he was craving Mexican food as well, but because he was pleased to find that things were back to normal. A small voice in the back of his head told him that after the kiss things would never be the same, but they were. Hephzibah still talked to him like a normal person and they were still best friends. The only thing that changed was that they both could mark "First Kiss" off their bucket list.

Stanford zipped his backpack closed and swung it over his shoulder. "Sounds delicious."

Hephzibah slipped on her own backpack and whispered with him all the way out of the library. Once at the entrance, Hephzibah pulled out her umbrella and shared it with Stanford before venturing out into the cold, wet night. Stanford was happy to find, once again, that things weren't awkward when they had to stand close under the umbrella to keep themselves dry.


	5. Alex

It was way too early for a stupid knock on the stupid door. Hephzibah pushed her dreadlocks away from over her eyes and checked her clock. Dammit, it was seven in the morning. She let her head fall back into her pillow and she huffed out in frustration. Maybe if she ignored it, it would go away.

The knock came again, rapid and urgent-sounding, and Hephzibah got up in anger. If she didn't answer it, either her exhausted Grandpa would or her mentally handicapped Grandma would, none of which were ideal. Hephzibah walked to the door as she tried to gain control of her dreadlocks and rubbed her shivering arms. This better be good. She normally wouldn't be so pissed, but she had closed the dining room at The Juke Joint last night and didn't get to sleep until two in the morning. A third knock came just before Hephzibah touched the doorknob and she threw open the door to release some anger. The seventeen-year-old glared at the visitor, but her rage demolished slightly at seeing her friend Stanford in front of her.

He blushed slightly at seeing Hephzibah. While he was wearing a long-sleeved gold-colored polo and jeans, she was only wearing a tank-top with no bra and really short shorts. True, after growing up together he had seen her in a bathing suit and small clothing plenty of times, but seeing her in her pajamas felt like Stanford was invading her privacy in some way, but she didn't seem to think that and only leaned against the doorway.

"What's up?" Hephzibah asked grumpily.

Stanford's blush went away and he remembered why he had come to wake Hephzibah so early in the morning. "It's Sherman. He… well, we… we got a call from him around five this morning."

"He okay?" Hephzibah interrupted. She personally didn't care much for the dismissive young man who seemed too stuck-up for his own family, but that didn't mean she wanted the guy hurt. He was her best friends' brother, after all.

"He's… well…" Stanford rubbed his neck nervously, unsure how to spill the news, but he eventually said, "He found out that he's a father."

Hephzibah's eyes grew wide at the news. This wasn't the first time she heard about babies being born from an unmarried couple - Lord knows she came into this world like that - but it still shocked her to have news like this come from someone close to her. To help lighten the mood, Hephzibah gasped, "That loser got laid?"

Stanford's cruel mind tried to imagine his brother in bed with a woman and the six-fingered teen shook his head violently to literally shake the idea out of his head. "Apparently."

Hephzibah noticed how down and gloomy Stanford was about the whole situation. It was still a little too early to imagine why for the young woman, so she said, "Look, come in for some coffee n' fill me in, 'k?"

Stanford looked at her and smiled. "Thanks." He walked in and closed the door behind him while Hephzibah walked to the stove.

She got out the kettle and started to fill it with water while Stanford sat at the table. "So, what exactly happened?" Hephzibah asked as she sat the kettle on a burner.

"Well," Stanford crossed his arms over the table. "Shermie called and Ma answered. Good thing, too, because once Pa found out he was really angry."

"Why?"

Stanford shrugged. "He's always angry."

"True."

"I think he's mad Shermie didn't marry his child's mother, but Ma tried to explain that Shermie just found out. I don't think his ex told him until last night. She called him, he met her at the hospital, and then he called Ma from there and she left to be there to see… to see…"

"To see her grandbaby bein' born." Hephzibah finished for him. Stanford nodded, his mind elsewhere. Hephzibah sighed and glanced at the kettle. It was still heating up, so she sat next to Stanford and rubbed his back. "Ya wanna say what's on your mind?"

"It's just… hard to wrap my mind around it…" The six-fingered teen confided. "I mean… Holy Moses, Shermie's got a kid. That makes Ma and Pa grandparents, and Stan and I… we're… we're uncles, now."

Hephzibah blinked as the news hit her. "I guess it does." She looked down at Stanford and found him clinging to his arms. She leaned in a little bit closer to get a good look at his face and asked, "N' does this bother ya?"

Stanford looked up at her and loosened his grip on his forearms. "No! No, it doesn't bother me!" He said, shaking his head as he strove to explain himself. "I'm just shocked, that's all."

"Well, imagine how shocked your brother is." Hephzibah said as she leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest. "One minute he's a bachelor livin' in New York n' then next he's a father."

"I guess." Stanford admitted.

"Any idea what he's gonna do?"

"Knowing Sherman, probably try to ignore the whole situation."

"Like hell he's gonna ignore it." Hephzibah growled.

"That's what Pa's thinking." Stanford sighed. "He'll probably try to force Sherman to marry his ex."

"Who is she, anyway?"

"The best ex he ever had: Daisy."

"That pretty dirty-blond who worked at the supermarket?" Hephzibah asked, remembering the girl Shermie dated his senior year of high school. Those two had been on-again, off-again since then. Daisy was a gem while Shermie was a piece of coal.

"Yeah, that's the one."

"Well, I'm not sayin' he should marry her. That gurl doesn't deserve a piece of crap like that."

"Agreed."

"But he better be there for his kid or I'll beat your Pa to him n' kick his ass!" Hephzibah growled once more.

Stanford raised an eyebrow. "Why do you care so much?"

"Cuz I know what it's like to grow up without a father, Dumb-Dumb."

The kettle started to whistle, interrupting the conversation, and Hephzibah stood up to take it off the burner and fix the coffee. She got the Melitta Coffee Maker and set it and the paper on top of the pot and filled the filter with grounds. Stanford looked down shamefully for his insensitive question. It had just slipped out. He was usually good about thinking before he spoke, but he had so much on his mind and he hadn't had coffee yet that he forgot. "I'm sorry."

"Ya should be."

"I know." Stanford looked up at Hephzibah as she poured the boiling water into the coffee maker. The java was already starting to drip into the pot. "Did it… does it really bother you that much? Not having a father, I mean."

Hephzibah took a moment to think about it. As she got down two mugs from the cabinet, her arm stretched out and her body hoisted up by standing on her toes, Stanford couldn't help but watch her. She had a slender, beautiful body, one that Stanford found he wanted to hold and… what the hell was he thinking?!

"Yeah, it bothers me sometimes." Hephzibah said as she fished out the creamer and sugar. "I mean, I've got Grandma n' Grandpa, n' Lord knows I love 'em n' they love me, but… it still hurts that my parents don't want me."

Stanford blinked and was pulled away from his troubling thoughts. "I'm sure they want you…"

"No, they don't." Hephzibah said coldly and sat the mugs, powdered-creamer, and sugar on the table. "Grandpa tried to sugar-coat it as a kid, but Grandma told me everythang. They got a call one night sayin' how their daughter had a baby n' then ran off, like she did with all her problems. They could've felt me in that hospital n' let me be taken by an orphanage, but they didn't. They drove ten hours to come get me n' bring me home. I dunno, maybe they should've left me there, but they didn't. They still don't know who my dad is or where my mom is, but I don't care."

Stanford sighed at Hephzie's story. Growing up together, he picked up the pieces here and there. He knew her parents weren't in the picture for a reason and he knew Hephzie has been with her grandparents since she was a baby, but that was it. The details were news to him. "But you do care." Stanford said slowly as Hephzibah got the coffee pot and started to fill the mugs, her eyes heavy.

Hephzibah glared at him and slid him a mug of coffee. "Let me rephrase that: I wish I didn't care." She filled up the second mug, put the coffee pot on the stove, and brought two spoons to the table before sitting down next to her friend.

Stanford spooned himself some sugar and asked, "So you really think Shermie should be there for his kid?"

"Your brother's a stuck-up idiot who wouldn't know a good joke if it danced in front of him in Stan's boxers." Hephzibah answered, making Stanford snort with laughter. "But he's a good man. His heart's in the right place, he's got good morals, n' he's got a steady job n' a home. All he's gotta do is remember how important family is n' stop shovin' thangs he doesn't like away. N' it wouldn't hurt to grow some balls, too."

Stanford chuckled as he mixed some creamer into his coffee. "You're right."

"I'm always right." Hephzibah said smugly into her coffee cup.

"And," Stanford hesitated and looked at Hephzibah again. Her lips pursed as they were covered in coffee and she licked them. Her hair was everywhere, her dreadlocks out of control. Sitting right next to Stanford was his best friend, right next to Stanley, of course. They had grown up together and faced bullies and every other obstacle together. It was hard to imagine Stanford's life without Hephzibah in it. "I'm glad they didn't leave you at the hospital. I'm glad they brought you home."

Hephzibah looked up from her drink and smiled. "Yeah. Me too."

* * *

Ma had Ford and Stan sit on the couch. Apparently Shermie needed some time to think, so he drove off and left his son - yes, the baby was a boy - with the new grandparents. Pa hid in the pawn shop, claiming he didn't need to lose a day of work, meanwhile Ma stood with a bundle in her arms. Unfortunately, Daisy had complications during childbirth and had to have surgery, so until further notice the little one was going to stay with the Pines. Hephzie stood by the doorway and watched, fully intending to let the family enjoy this moment among the chaos.

Ma turned and said, "Come have a seat, dear."

"That's okay." Hephzie said as she held up her hands in defense. "This is for family."

"Your as good as." Ma said firmly. "Sit."

Hephzie smiled and nodded. The twins made room so she could sit in between them. It was a bit of a tight fit on that old red plaid couch, but it was cozy and they all fitted well.

"Alright, Stanley, you first."

Stan opened his arms and let his mother do all the work in case he screwed up. Ma lowered the bundle into his hands and helped him hold the baby so he laid on Stan's arm and was kept there with his other hand, the baby's head resting in the palm of Stan's hand. The teenager stared at the little head that poked out of the white blanket. He wore a tiny baby-blue hat and his eyes were closed. He looked so small in Stan's bulky arms and it was a wonder how someone Stan didn't know existed until today already strung a heartstring or two.

"Wow." He whispered. "He's so small."

Ma smiled at watching his son and grandson. Hephzie looked down at the baby and awed. Ford leaned over Hephzie to try to get a good look. He could understand why people got so attached to babies; they were kind of cute.

"Aw, don't you worry, little guy." Stan said to the baby. "I'll teach ya how to give a good bloody nose."

"Not even a day old and you want to teach him violence." Ford said with a roll of his eyes as he sat back up straight.

"Well, yeah!" Stan said dignified. "My nephew's gonna be the toughest kid on the block!" My nephew. It felt strange on his lips, but he liked it. It made him swell up with pride. Stan remembered his Uncle Jack and how much he looked up to him as a kid. He thought his uncle was the coolest guy on the planet, and Stan wanted to be that for Alex.

"Alright, give your brother a turn." Ma said gently.

Stan only obeyed to protect his man-card. He desperately didn't want to let the little guy go, but he supposed he couldn't argue with his mother. Stan slowly held the baby over Hephzie's lap so Ford could reach out for him. Ford's hands trembled slightly and he scooped him up and then laid the bundle on his lap, sitting rigid and still, with one hand supporting the neck and the other over the body. Ford was frozen and he looked ahead at nothing in particular. The last thing he needed was to make the baby cry or hurt it in any way.

Hephzie chuckled. "No reason to be so nervous. He's not gonna snap in half."

Ford glared at his friend. "I'm not nervous!"

"Whatever. Here."

Hephzie helped slip Ford's arm under the baby and lift him up off of Ford's lap. Alex fitted snugly in between his uncle's chest and arm, but he looked like he could fall any moment. Hephzie was patient and took Ford's hand, guiding him every step of the way and even help position his six fingers so both he and the baby were comfortable. Finally, they were both settled and Ford felt like the position his arms were in was natural. He smiled at Hephzie in thanks before looking down at his nephew. He awed at the tiny human in his hold and could finally understand what Stan was feeling.

The newborn opened his eyes and blinked as he adjusted to the light. Ford smiled at the little shining eyes that looked up at him. "Hello." He said quietly.

Hephzie leaned on Ford's shoulder and whispered, "Well, would ya look at that."

Alex's lip began to tremble and then he let out a cry that made Ford's heart crack. Great. Only held the kid for thirty second and he already made him cry. The shame and disappointment must have shown on Ford's face, because Hephzie chuckled and said, "Don't worry, everyone's a little cranky when they first wake up. Here…" Hephzie gently scooped up the baby as he wailed loudly. Ford let her take him and then the teenager let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. Hephzie cradled the baby close to her heart and gently rocked him up and down, humming "mm, hm" in agreement for the kid's misery. "I know. I know. Welcome to the Real World. It sucks, but you'll love it." Hephzie cooed as the baby's cries got quieter and quieter until it became pitiful whimpers. "Yeah, don't ya worry, Lil'Lex. Ya see, this world sucks, but there's good people here who make it all worthwhile!"

Alex ceased his crying and looked up at Hephzie. Each of his uncles looked down at him from either side of Hephzie, one looking pleased, the other looking worried. "He really is something, huh?" Stan said.

"Yes, he is." Ford agreed.

"It won't be easy." Ma said as she sat down in an armchair. "Even if Sherman agrees to raise him, he'll need our support."

"And if he doesn't?" Stan asked his mother.

"Then it'll be up to us to help Daisy in any way we can." Ma answered. "You know her parents are gone, and I don't think she has any other family."

"I'm sure she does, Ma." Ford said to ease her worries for Daisy, but the minute he said it he tried to think of a sister or even a cousin or an aunt or uncle, but Ford couldn't think of anyone. Then again, he didn't know Daisy well enough to be sure.

"The point is," Ma said firmly to steer them back on track. "Your father and I will need your help. Then again, I doubt Fil will do much…"

"You can count on us, Ma." Stan said firmly, a fist clenched in determination and a smile on his face.

Ford and Hephzie nodded in agreement. Ma smiled and her eyes averted back to Alex. The teenagers looked down at the baby in Hephzie's arms and smiled. All it took was five minutes with the kid and they were all ready to give what it took to help him. Not just until his mother was out of the hospital, but for all time.

Ma stood up and grabbed her purse. "Right, well can you three watch him for awhile so I can go to the store?"

Ford almost snapped his neck he looked up at his mother so quickly. "You're leaving?!"

"Alexander needs food and clothes and a million other things, Stanford. You'll be fine."

"B-b-but…" But his mother was already gone.

"Relax, bro." Stan said and punched his shoulder from behind Hephzie. "How bad can it be?"

Hephzie shifted Franklin to Stan and the new uncle held him. "Right, I'll be right back."

"Where are you going?!" Ford questioned, becoming more and more panicked.

"Easy, Fordsie, I'm just goin' across the street." Hephzie giggled. "I'll be back soon. Just call if ya need anythang."

"Hephzibah!" But she was already gone, too.

As luck would have it, the baby started to cry. Dammit.

Stan and Ford did everything they could think of to get Alex to stop crying, from walking him around to trying to give him water to drink to bouncing him gently to even checking his diaper, but nothing silenced the boy. At one point Stan gave up trying to quit the kid's crying and just sat with him on the couch and rocked him while Ford stood in the hallway with his hands over his ears.

An hour after Hephzie left, she was back and faced an angry Ford in the hallway. "Where the hell have you been?!"

"Easy, Ford, there's a kid in the other room." Hephzie teased.

"I don't care! Where the hell have you been?!"

Hephzie only grinned and gestured for Ford to follow her down the stairs for the back entrance. "I was workin' on a surprise for your mother. I figured Alex would need a crib, so I built him one." Hephzie opened the door and revealed a freshly-built wooden crib in the alleyway. It looked like it had been built out of the same wood Hephzie had given the twins for the Stan O' War on their seventeenth birthday. There must have been a sale that day and she had kept the extra wood just in case, and good thing, too. The crib-posts were curved and instead of a heart or a moon, each one had a pine tree-shaped hole.

"Pine trees?" Ford asked.

Hephzie smirked at him. "Yeah, ya know for Alex Pines."

Ford rolled his eyes and ran a hand over the woodwork. It was smooth and felt pleasant under his fingertips. "This is really impressive. I can't believe you made this." Well, yes he could. Hephzie had built birdhouses and even a rocking chair in the past for presents.

"It's still not done." Hephzie said and pointed to the bland wooden robs. "I'm gonna carve some more designs into it n' get a cozy mattress for it, but I wanted to check on you guys first." She looked back up at the pawn shop and said, "Good thang I did."

Ford remembered his anger for being left alone with the kid and said, "We've tried everything!"

"Well, if he's hungry, which I'm sure he is," Hephzie guessed. "There's not much we can do until Mrs. Pines gets back."

"We tried giving him some water, but it's hard without a bottle." Ford grumbled, recalling how he had tried to feed the baby water with a spoon, but it only dribbled down his chin.

"No, you're right." Hephzie patted Ford on the back and said, "Besides, a newborn shouldn't drink water. Give your brother a hand. Just let me run n' get the mattress n' I'll be back."

"Fine." Ford huffed, agreeing that it wasn't fair that Stan was alone with a wailing newborn.

Hephzie literally ran down the street to get the mattress and Ford went up to take his nephew. He told Stan to go take a shower or out for a walk or something, anything to give Stan a break from the crying, so the Stan settled for a shower and was pleased when he found he could only vaguely hear the crying over the rushing water. By the time Stan got out and was ready to watch Alex, Hephzie came up the stairs and told the boys to go carry the crib up and she would watch the baby.

Eager to take up on her offer, the twins ran down the stairs and worked together to carry the crib and mattress up the stairs and into the flat. Hephzie bounced Alex and walked him around the room as he wailed for dear life. His cry was actually really hard to hear and it pained Hephzie to see him cry hot tears. She suddenly felt guilty for leaving her friends like this, but it wasn't like she wasn't contributing in some way. Hephzie hummed softly and held Franklin close to her heart. Though he didn't stop crying, he did quiet down to a miserable whimper.

Stan and Ford were struggling with the crib, carrying it over the stairs and trying to hold open the door, and stared when they paused in the hallway to rest. "How did you do that?!" Stan demanded as he caught his breath.

"Did what?" Hephzie asked, ceasing her pacing but she gently rocked the baby in her arms.

"How did you calm him down?!" Ford explained. "Alex hasn't been that quiet since he was asleep!"

Hephzie shrugged. "Woman's touch?"

"Well, where should we out the crib?" Stan asked. "Ma might want it in her room…"

"Pa would never agree to that." Ford pointed out. "Let's just put it in the living room for now."

The two worked together and moved the crib against the wall, just underneath the sun-clock and between the living room and the kitchen-dining area. When Ford went to go find blankets for the crib, Ma came in with her arms full of bags, which Stan helped her unload by scurrying around for some sort of food to give Franklin. "Hold your horses, Stanley."

"Alex's been crying for almost two hours, Ma!" He explained, feeling like he would lose his mind if they didn't feed the kid.

"Don't be overdramatic." Ma snapped and pulled out a bottle and a tub of formula.

It took a few minutes to heat up the water, mix the formula, and cool the water down to just the right temperature, but soon Ma was able to take her grandson into her arms and feed him, silencing the household. Ford and Stan collapsed on the couch and sighed at the blissful quiet.

Hephzie laughed and said, "I know it's no fun hearing a baby cry, but c'mon, guys!"

"Shut up." Ford groaned and rubbed his forehead. He was starting to get a headache.

Hephzie turned to Ma and said, "Well, I have to get ready for work, but if ya need anythang, call me, 'k? I should get home around midnight, n' if ya need me to I'll come over."

"Why would we need you at midnight?" Stan asked for the couch.

"Babies do tend to cry during the night, Stanley." Ma informed her son.

"What?!" The twins cried out.

Ma laughed and said, "You two were quite the handful when you first came home! Your father and I would be awake for days at a time! I remember the first time you two slept the whole night, I was in tears of joy and your father fell to his knees in relief!"

Hephzie laughed along with Ma and said, "Well, if ya need an extra pair of hands, ya know where to look."

"Thank you, Hephzibah."

"Bye, bye, Lil'Lex." Hephzie cooed and waved to the baby as he drank his lunch. "See ya guys!"

The twins groaned in farewell and Hephzie was gone.

* * *

Things were mellow the rest of the day. The twins stayed home to help out where they could, like look after Alex when Ma had to cook supper and do chores around the house. Pa closed the store and came up when dinner was ready, but Alex proved to be a little fussy.

He didn't really cry all the time, but he almost always whimpered and seemed to cry too easily. If someone didn't hold him right (usually Ford did that) or if he heard a loud noise, he would wail like his heart was broken. Sometimes rocking him or pacing with him help, and sometimes he had a legitimate need that needed to be met, and other times there was nothing anyone could do but let the little guy cry to his heart's content. The constant noise quickly pissed Pa off and that night he went to bed really early, like that even mattered in the end.

Even behind closed doors, Alex's cries could still be heard. As the night waned on, Stan and Ford thought that the baby would get tired of crying eventually and go to sleep, and though it appeared he did around ten o'clock, two hours later he woke up wailing worse than ever and Ma had to get up and tried to quiet him down.

Sleep for the twins came and went. Sometimes they could ignore the muffled crying long enough to go back to sleep, and sometimes all they could do was lay in bed. Around two in the morning, Stan got out of bed and marched into the living room. Ford followed him, afraid he had lost his temper, but found his brother offering to look after Alex so Ma could try to get a quick nap in. Grateful for his son's promised help, Ma left the baby in Stan's care and tried to get some sleep.

Stan mostly told stories to his nephew as he paced around the living room. He eventually got Alex to sleep, but once Stan sat down, the baby woke up and started to cry again, so the teenager learned quickly not to let his guard down and he resumed his pacing and storytelling. Alex didn't go back to a peaceful sleep, but he did seem to doze off every now and then. Around four in the morning, Ford offered to babysit so Stan could take a break, but Alex cried worse than ever and an hour later Ma took over and managed to get the baby down to muffled cries.

For about two hours, Pa, Stan, and Ford managed to fall asleep, until they were violently awoken by a loud shriek from Alex that turned into a cry. Ford jumped so badly he fell out of his top-bunk and Pa lost his temper and storm out to shout at Ma to get the kid to shut up, someway somehow. Ma yelled back that she was doing everything she could but didn't see Pa doing anything to help. Not only did the baby's cries shake the flat, but now so did Ma and Pa's screaming match.

Stan groaned and buried his head under his pillow while Ford sighed and got up to take a shower. Throughout their marriage, Mr. and Mrs. Pines had their fair share of arguments. Their children had learned that it was best to ignore it and wait for the argument to die. Pa was a tough man and was usually very demanding, always calling the shots, but every so often Ma would put her foot down and it would come down to who was more stubborn. Now, both of them were sleep deprived and frustrated about the situation their eldest son had thrown them in and now they were taking out their anger out on their spouses.

When Ford got out of the shower they were still yelling. The sun was starting to rise and he swore like a sailor under his breath. He rejoined Stan in their bedroom to find his brother sitting in his bed and reading a comic. Ford changed clothes, wearing an orange sweater and blue jeans now, and later sat at his desk to read a book. He was tempted to go get his nephew and try to comfort the baby in their bedroom, but the fear of getting between a heated argument that involved his father was enough to keep him in his room like a child. Ford felt ashamed as he could barely hear Alex's wails over the married couple's screaming.

At long last, Pa declared he had enough and stormed off for some peace and quiet, undoubtedly just going next door for some Belgian waffles, his favorite location to retreat to after a fight with his wife. The door slammed, scaring Alex enough to stop him from crying for a minute, but then he continued his wailing with a sore throat, his voice cracked and achy.

Stan couldn't take it anymore. He threw his comic aside and hurried out of his room to take care of his nephew. He found his mother trembling as she paced with the baby; Stan wasn't sure if she shook with anger or sadness, but that hardly mattered. He gently took Alex into his arms and told Ma to go lie down. After patting his cheek and giving a mournful smile, she left for her bedroom where she collapsed into bed and sobbed until she fell asleep, not that anyone knew that!

Ford sighed and joined his brother and nephew, not sure what to do, but he knew he had to do something. He knew they needed to eat, so he fished out the kettle from under the sink and worked to brew some coffee. Things always looked better after coffee.

"What are we gonna do, Sixer?"

Ford turned to look at his brother. "Excuse me?" He asked over Alex's muffled cries. The kid sounded too tired to cry anymore, but something was clearly bothering him enough to make his eyes spill tears and his lip tremble.

"What are we gonna do?" Stan repeated. "It can't seriously be like this every night!"

"No, of course not." Ford said and tried to think rationally. He didn't know a whole lot about babies, so he used his best logic to try to figure the whole situation out. "This was his first night in the Real World."

"And it sucked." Stan added, vaguely quoting Hephzie from when she held Alex.

"It did suck." Ford agreed as he prepared a bottle for the baby in case he as hungry. "But he will get tired eventually and go to sleep. Heck, he already sounds exhausted."

Stan looked down at Alex sadly. Ford was right. The kid was straight-up miserable, and it sucked that nobody could do a thing about it. Stan desperately wanted to help his nephew and be a good uncle, but so far he seemed to be failing. "I'm not just talking about Lex, Poindexter. I'm talking about Shermie. You really think he'll just leave his kid behind?"

Ford sighed as he poured dried formula into a bottle. Shermie was his brother, but truth be told he wasn't sure if he knew the eldest Pines boy well enough to be sure if he would take up responsibility for his son. "I don't know." Once the kettle whistled, Ford poured most of the hot water into the coffee maker over the pot, and then the rest into the bottle. Once he mixed it up and the powder had dissolved, he added a little bit of cold water to cool the drink down. After rolling up his sleeve and testing the drink on his forearm, Ford slid the bottle across the table for Stan. "Right, try to see if he will eat."

Stan took the bottle and tried to remember what his mother did when she fed Alex. Stan raised his arm to elevate the baby and used his free hand to hold the bottle to his lips. Alex latched on quickly and sucked happily, and after a few sips Stan pulled the bottle away to make sure his nephew didn't drink too quickly. "Easy there, ya little gremlin," The teenager teased. "It ain't going anywhere."

Ford smiled and sat with two mugs of coffee. Stan liked his coffee black and Ford knew this, so he slid the plain mug his way.

Stan caught Ford's smile and sneered, "What are you lookin' at?"

Ford shrugged and muttered into his coffee, "Nothing." But truth be told, he was smiling at how his brother was handling the whole baby-situation. Twice already Stan had taken over babysitting and did his best to help his nephew. For a guy with a reputation for being tough and having a "cold, dark, empty soul", he was suddenly willing to do whatever it took to help his family. That's when Ford realized one of the many great character traits Stan possessed was his loyalty to his family. Everything he's done, everything he's worked for has been for his family, his nephew, his twin. Ford knew Stan would be a great uncle, and he wondered for a moment if he would make a great father, too.

Not even halfway through the bottle, Alex turned his head away and started to cry. Stan sighed and sat the bottle down. No point trying to feed the kid when he wasn't hungry. Ford groaned and held his head as another headache crept up on him, like a lion after her prey.

A familiar knock made both uncles turn to look at the door. "C'min, Hephzie." Stan called, recognizing the rhythm of the knock.

Hephzie came in and rushed to the table. "Hey guys, just came to check in." She cringed at Alex's crying and said, "Oh, bless it, rough night, huh?"

"I think I slept a whole hour last night." Ford said sarcastically.

Hephzie chuckled and held her arms out for the baby. "Well, here. I can take over for a bit."

Stan gave his nephew to his best friend and sighed before taking a sip of his coffee.

Hephzie looked down at the baby sadly and tried to figure out what was bothering him. "How long as he been cryin' like this?"

"All night." Stan moaned.

"All night?" Hephzie asked in an alarmed tone. "Oh, Sweet Lord, ya poor thang, c'mere." She held Alex closer to her chest and laid his head so it was directly over her heart. "Shh, shh, c'mon, deep breaths." Hephzie began to pace around the room to give the twins some space. While she walked with the baby, she hummed in a tone that was soft as silk and petted his head softly with one hand. Slowly, ever so slowly, Alex stopped crying and looked up at Hephzie with watery eyes. She used a bit of his blanket to wipe his face dry and continued to sing under her breath.

Ford stood up, his jaw hanging open, and asked, "How did you do that?!"

Hephzie paused her singing and whispered, "I just sang to him, that's all."

"Keep singing!"

"Okay, okay!" Hephzie giggled and continued to sing her lullaby.

Alex watched her as she walked with him, but he was not the only Pines boy that watched her. Stan and Ford both carefully analyzed her beautiful voice and the way her heart was by the newborn's little ear so he could hear it and the way her hands both held and petted him. When Hephzie had paced by the table, her words could be picked up. "So sail across the sea, climb up the mountain, scale the desert and fly above the clouds. May you, my little wanderer, find your own way, and may I be with you always."

Alex started to close his eyes and drift off to sleep. Hephzie decided to test her luck and she slowly walked to the crib, kiss the baby's forehead, and then lowered him into bed while she sang her lullaby. Ford and Stan joined her and watched as she petted the little brown fluff Alex had, unwrapped his blanket and shook it before covering him back up for his nap, tucking it in his sides and making him cozy. "Poor little tyke." Hephzie whispered as she worked. "Bet he misses his mama."

Stan looked at her. "You really think that's why he's been crying?"

"Sure," Hephzie answered and sat up straight. She started to gently rock the crib (she knew building rockers into the crib was a good idea) and she told the new uncles in a hushed tone, "When I first came home, I cried for days. I wanted my mom, but she wasn't around n' nobody could do a thang about it, so Grandpa pulled out his viola n' played for me until I fell asleep. It didn't do much when I was awake, but it helped me fall asleep when I was tired enough but too miserable to go to sleep on my own."

Ford slapped his forehead. "Of course! He hasn't known anything but his mother for nine months! Of course he would miss her!"

"Look, y'all look like you've been beaten by the ugly stick." Hephzie teased. "Go take a nap. I'll watch Alex for a few hours n' wake y'all at noon, 'k?"

"G'night." Stan said without question and walked off for his room.

"Are you sure about this?" Ford asked.

"Please." Hephzie said with her eyes rolled and pulled the armchair close to the crib so she could sit and rock it. "Worst case scenario I wake ya up n' put ya in charge."

"No, worst case scenario I wake up to find the house in flames." Ford joked, knowing full well that Hephzie would never allow that to happen and that Ford being in charge of a newborn was the worst case scenario.

"Just go to bed, Dumb-Dumb."

Ford smiled and put a hand on one of Hephzie's shoulders and squeezed it. "Thanks."

Hephzie smiled. "Anytime."

Ford walked off zombie-like for the hall, but paused at the curtains to look back at Hephzie as she rocked the crib she had built for Alex, his nephew. Hephzie was an amazing friend to be willing to do so much for them. This wasn't her problem, she didn't have to get involved, but she did. She understood the situation the Pines family was in and pitied Alex. She understood him and loved him. As she sung to the newborn, Ford got the chance to see a side of Hephzie he didn't always get to see.

She was a lot like Stan in the sense that they were both tough. Hephzie wasn't like most girls; she knew how to throw a good punch, she loved jeans, and she couldn't cook to save her life, but even if she was the toughest girl Ford had ever met, she was still soft and comforting. Then again, this wasn't exactly news to Ford. How many times did she tend to he and Stan's injuries after a run-in with bullies or a boxing match? How many times did she counsel them late into the night or reassure them? How many chores and responsibilities had she taken up since her grandmother's stroke?

Ford smiled at seeing his nephew and best friend bond, and it was at that moment that, among the chaos, between the fears for Daisy and the frustrations with Shermie, and despite the brokenness of the family, Ford was happy, truly happy, to see two people he loved at peace. Even if it was just for a moment.

* * *

Stan was the hothead of the twins. He was the one to lose his temper of the three friends. Hephzie had wicked temper, too, but usually it depended on the subject of who would lose their patience first. There have been a few times when both boys had to hold Hephzie back, firmly gripping each arm, and other times when Stan would make a mess that Hephzie and Ford would have to clean up. His temper usually got the knucklehead into trouble, but even after he slept all Sunday morning, he was still mad and knew what he had to do.

Hephzie, thank God, watched Alex all morning and only left when she had to go to work. Ma was well rested by then and took her grandbaby to the hospital to visit his mother, hoping it would help his fussiness. Ford stayed home and did some chores while his father ran the pawn shop. He was doing dishes when he saw his brother heading for the door out of the corner of his eye, his keys in his fist. "Where are you going?"

"To find our idiot brother and bring him home."

"Wait, what?!" Ford turned and saw Stan head for the stairwell that headed for the front of the house. "Stanley!" The six-fingered twin ran after him and called from the top of the stairs, "What in the world are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking our nephew's gonna grow up with a father who's actually there for him, Sixer." Stan growled, already at the bottom of the stairs, his hand on the doorknob for the shop.

"I agree that Sherman should step up to the playing field," Ford scolded. "But kicking his ass won't do any good."

"Who said anything about kicking his ass?"

"You're always up for kicking someone's ass!"

Stan pointed at his brother. "True, but not today!"

"Stan!" But he was already gone. "Dammit."

Stan raced down the street, hitting a couple of trash cans, and headed for the interstate for New York. It was only an hour and a half drive, but once Stan got there he desperately wished he had taken a bus or a subway or something, because the traffic was so bad he hardly moved at all. Despite the traffic, Stan could see why his older brother liked the Big Apple a lot better than crummy old Glass Shard beach.

The skyscrapers were really impressive, the streets were crowded, pawn shops just like Pa's could be seen on every block, and everything just looked so high-class and nice that the businessman in Stan was already thinking of a million ways to make a quick buck. He shook those thoughts out of the way and went out to find his stupid brother. He parked the Diablo in a parking garage by Shermie's apartment building and went up to the tenth floor and knocked on room eight.

Stan knocked for a few minutes, but no answer. He even managed to convince the cute clerk at the lobby to go up with him and unlock the door (he may or may not have promised her out to drinks). After a grief search of the overly-tidy apartment, Stan had to conclude that Shermie wasn't home. Stan then walked around the streets, trying to find his brother. No point going to his workplace; Shermie worked at a bank and it was Sunday. He sent all night looking for his brother and finally had to rest at a crummy little bar.

The seventeen-year-old got up on a stool and ordered a water and some hot wings. Stan looked up at the TV to see a football game going on. He distracted himself from his worries for just a moment. Right as the bartender gave him a glass of water, he walked to the other end of the bar and told a beanpole of a man, "Sorry, mister, but you've had way too much already."

Stan looked over to see who was so drunk even the bartender had to cut him off. Shermie was holding his head and an empty beer bottle. His dark brown hair was shaggy and sticking up everywhere, his suit wrinkled, his tie undone, his eyes red and sunk in. He looked like he hadn't slept ever since he found out that he was a dad. Stan sighed and moved stools so he was next to his brother. "Hey."

"Pa, I'm - hic - sorry, but I - hic - can't." Shermie hiccuped.

Shit, I do look like Dad. Stan drank his water to give him something to do while he tried to think of what to say.

"That - hic - kid deserves - hic - more than I - hic - can give." Shermie said, running his fingers through his hair. "What kind - hic - of guy - hic - leaves his kid?"

Stan shrugged, not really sure if Shermie would even hear an answer if it was given.

"N' Daisy - hic - she deserves - hic - someone who loves her - hic - as much as I do…"

Stan looked at Shermie in a stoic manner. "Sounds like you really love her."

"I've always loved her!" Shermie broke down into muffled sobs and buried his head in his arms. Stan was in shock to see his older brother like this, but he decided to rub his back and let the man pour out his worries. "God, I love her - hic - so much! And - hic - my son! I have a son! I'd - hic - give anything for him! I love him! - hic -"

"Than why don't you be there for him?" Stan suggested. It wasn't a question, he was just putting it out there on the table.

Shermie looked up at Stan and said, "Cuz he'd be better off - hic - without me!"

Stan stared as his brother collapsed with no shame once more. If anyone knew what it felt like to not feel like you have self worth, that the world would be better off without you, that no one needed you, Stan did. He sighed and took another gulp of water. If it wasn't for Ford and Hephzie, there was a good chance that Stan wouldn't have the strength to go on and let's just leave it at that. Stan patted Shermie's back and said, "Believe me, Beanpole, I get it. But that kid needs you. Ma, Ford and I will do whatever we can to help you, but Alex doesn't want us, he wants his folks. I know he's been crying for his mom, but he wants his dad, too."

"He'll never - hic - forgive me." Shermie mumbled through the alcohol and the tears.

"We'll see about that." Stan said firmly and swiped his brother's wallet, threw down enough cash for the drinks, and then took one of Shermie's arms and hung it around his neck, pulling the beanpole up on his feet and starting to walk him out of the bar. "C'mon, ya dweeb. Let's go home."

By some miracle, Stan managed to half-walk, half-drag Shermie back to the Diablo and sit him on the passenger's seat. Shermie had been asleep most of the walk and continued to snooze away his drunkenness as Stan drove them back to New Jersey. All the while, this gave him time to think.

Shermie wasn't a bad guy. He was very traditional. He approved of the idea of a nuclear family and wanted a normal job in a normal city living in a normal apartment. And life in Glass Shard wasn't what he wanted. He didn't want to live in a crummy neighborhood barely making it buy. He wanted to live comfortably, working a secure nine-to-five job, and while Stan could understand that, he couldn't relate.

Again, this didn't make Shermie a bad guy; what made him a stuck-up was that he pushed away anything or anyone that didn't fit his tight mold. He had a bad habit of shoving things away he didn't want to deal with. He wasn't like Stan where he punched his problems until they bled, or Ford where he thought his way to a solution. Shermie ignored his issues until they went away, but he couldn't do that anymore. He'd have to be a stubborn Pines and take on the situation head-on, even if he didn't want to, but after what he said at the bar, Stan wondered if he did want to, he just didn't know how. After all, old habits die hard.

By the time they got to Pines' Pawns, it was late at night. About ten o'clock or so. Stan slapped Shermie awake and helped him out of the car. Shermie wasn't drunk anymore, but clearly had a pretty rough hangover, his head spinning and his legs weak. Stan thought of taking him up to his old bedroom and letting him sleep, but once they were in the house they were greeted by Alex's sobs.

It was like Shermie had been grounded back to Earth violently. He lifted his head and his feet were planted on the ground. His red eyes grew wide and he stared blankly. Before Stan could get a firmer grip on him, Shermie hurried down the hallway and into the living room, where Ma was holding and trying to comfort Alex. Ford was sitting on the couch and stood up when he saw that his brothers were back home.

Ma turned as well and Shermie saw his son wailing for dear life. It broke his heart and showed on his face. He had seen him being born and felt, at the time, fear and overwhelming shame for said fear. Now, he felt what all good fathers felt. He saw his son crying and felt a need to do anything to fix it. Whatever it took to make his son smile, he would do it. Whatever it took to make that precious newborn feel loved and cease his crying, Shermie would do it in a heartbeat, no matter what it was or what it cost the new father.

The sudden rush of love, compassion, shame, and strive to protect was too much for one soul to take. Shermie bit his lip to try to hold in his own sobs and he gingerly took a step towards his mother, feeling unworthy to even approach Alex, but he desperately wanted to. "M-May I hold m-my son, Ma?" Shermie stuttered, hands outstretched in a hesitant manner, unsure if he would be granted such a blessing.

Ma smiled with tears in her eyes at seeing his eldest son beg for his child. She nodded and slowly placed Alex in Shermie's hold. He held his son close to his thin chest and rubbed his back, letting his instincts take over as he shushed and comforted the baby. Almost instantly, Alex started to quiet down, his sobs turning into quite tears of relief, his breathing becoming deeper and more even.

Shermie was almost oblivious to the rest of his family, reveling in his moment with his son. He was rubbing his back and whispering to him softly, slowly rocking side to side as he stood in the living room. Ma wiped under her eye and hugged Stan in thanks. He hugged her back but shrugged like it wax no big deal, but Ford patted his back to assure him that what he did was a big deal. Shermie had wanted to come back; he just needed a firm push from the family-knucklehead.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Hey guys! Thank you SO MUCH for reading and I hope you're liking this story for far!**

 **A huge theory and topic of discussion that was never met head-on in the series was who was Sherman Pines. At first glance at A Tale of Two Stans, when we see Mrs. Pines with a baby, some are quick to assume that baby is Shermie, but if one does the math, it doesn't add up. If that night happened 10 years before the portal indecent, than that would be a 40 year gap between the night Stan was kicked out and when Ford came back through the portal. That would make Grandpa Shermie 40 years old... that would make him a grandfather at 28 (40-12=28)... yeah, that's not what went down. I truly believe that the baby seen in A Tale of Two Stans is not Shermie, but Mabel and Dipper's father.**

 **As a side note, a fun thing to theorize is who exactly was Sherman Pines? In the canon series, all we get is that he is Dipper and Mabel's grandfather, and given the fact that they have the name last name, we can safely assume Shermie's son is their father. And, since there is no mention of aunts or uncles, we can assume Shermie only had one kid (most likely because Shermie didn't want his family torn by sibling-rivalries, again). But who was he personality-wise and appearance?**

 **In my head, Sherman looks more like his mom (since the twins look more like their dad). He got Filbrick's light brown hair, but is what Stan would call a "beanpole"; kinda tall, skinny, not very strong or muscular, but he has Caryn's chin and nose. Personality, I think Shermie is the "normal" one. Stan mentioned once on a video game that Grandpa Shermie was a "square", so I can imagine that coming from a weird family, Shermie might try to be as "normal" as possible, having a steady nine-to-five job and rejecting the abnormal. Think the Dursleys' from Harry Potter, but Sherman's not that much of an asshole.**

 **Anyways, thanks again so much for reading! I LOVE comments so be sure to drop some! Any ideas or theories? Any critiques? Can't wait to read them!**


	6. Wrecked

_**November 3rd, 1971**_

Ma was pulling a pie out of the oven. The house was rarely quiet, so she enjoyed it while it lasts, with her grandson home with his mother, Shermie at work, Pa downstairs in the pawn shop, and Ford and Stan out causing mischief with Hephzie. She didn't have work tonight, so Ma fully expected to have her join the Pines family for dinner once the twins came home for the hot meal. It was only four or so, meaning Ma didn't have to get started right away. She had time to relax and enjoy the blissful smell of the dessert she was just made.

She was slipping off her oven-mitts when she heard the door slam open and close and heavy footsteps running down the hallway.

"MA!"

That yell was so full of terror and desperation that it made the mother's blood run cold and she turned around to find Stan breathing hard and his skin pale.

"Stanley, what…"

"MA! Hephzie's hurt!" He yelled.

"What?!"

"We were heading for the library, a-a-and crossing the street when some truck spun around the corner a-a-and hit Hephzie!" Stan stuttered, gasping for breath and trying to get the story across as soon as possible.

"Sweet Lord!" Ma yelled in shock and put a hand over her heart. "Where is she? Did you call an ambulance?"

"We did." Stan replied as he nodded, still in shock. "Ford's with her. They're on their way to the hospital right now."

Ma breathed a little easier that learning that Hephzie was receiving medical care this very moment. She turned off the oven and said, "Good work, Stanley. We'll get Pa to watch Mrs. Cece and we'll bring Mr. Cece with us to the hospital."

"I need to get Ford some clothes." Stan added and ran for his bedroom to get his brother a clean sweater and a pair of jeans. "Will Pa really babysit Grandma Cece?" He called suspiciously, not really trusting Pa for the job.

Ma grabbed her purse and glared at her son when he re-entered the living room. "Your father will like his life depends on it, which it does."

Stan nodded and followed her out the door for the pawn shop.

* * *

Ford held his head, his twelve fingers grabbing his brown hair like his life depended on it. Well, it didn't. His life depended on Hephzie getting better or not. That horrifying scene - his best friend getting hit by that truck, her body being crushed underneath the vehicle, her blood spilling out onto the street and in his hold - it wouldn't leave him. It was enough to make him pull out chunks of his hair if Ford wasn't careful.

The whole time he never left Hephzie's side. Stan had gone to call for help while he sat there on the street, not caring if another car came and hit him, too. He wished one would. Ford stayed with her and begged her to keep her eyes open, but too soon Hephzie's strength failed her and she fell unconscious. Even when the paramedics came to the scene, he held her body carefully as to not hurt her but was reluctant to let her go, even if it meant it would save her life. Only one other person was allowed in the ambulance, so Ford got in and sent Stan to get help and meet them at the hospital. Covered in her blood, Ford held Hephzie's right hand and watched as the doctors sustained her and did all they could until they reached the hospital.

Once there, Ford ran alongside them as they wheeled her away in the stretcher, holding her hand tightly until she was taken into a room where he could not follow, and he was quickly looked over for any injuries. All he had was a torn knee and a scraped hand from when he had landed on the concrete after being pushed. He was fine. He was alive and safe, thanks to her.

That had been thirty minutes ago, and now he was alone in the waiting room, his heart pounding madly like a drum, his hands forming sweat, his breathing fast. His family may be Jewish, but Ford was a man of science and wasn't too sure if Yahweh even existed. But Ma was pretty confident that He did. And she had tried to teach her sons that, in times of desperation, He's always listening. Ford didn't know if anyone was there to hear him, but if someone was, he screamed in his head that, if given the chance, Hephzie's and Ford's faiths would be switched.

The icing on the cake was the guilt that plagued him about the whole situation. It was almost him - it should've been him - but she yelled in panic, pushed him ahead, and wasn't quick enough to save herself from the reckless driver. Stan had already crossed the street and turned to witness the horrifying accident. Ford had turned from the concrete he landed on just in time to see it, too. Damn it. It should've been him. Grant it, the truck had sped around a corner and left no time for Ford to dodge it himself, so there was no logical way he could guilt himself with the idea that he should've seen the truck coming. He could, however, guilt himself that he could've made Hephzie cross first. He should've crossed the street faster. He should've protected Hephzie in some way or form, but he didn't. And because of that, she could be dying for all Ford knew.

Just then, the double-doors flew open and Stan, Ma, and Hephzie's grandfather looked around until they saw the teenager holding his head, hunched over in a chair in blood-soaked clothes. The sight made Grandpa sick at realizing who's blood that was, and Ma thought she might faint at seeing her son like that, his shirt ruined by the red liquid and his skin pale with fright. His face was hidden from view. The three ran to him and Ma put a soft hand on her son's shoulder.

"Stanford."

He looked up and stood once he saw who was with him. Ford tried to compose himself, clearing his tight throat and flattening his unruly hair, before Grandpa asked him,

"Where is my granddaughter?"

Ford tried to prepare himself for the worst. "They're operating on her in the emergency room right now. They started working half an hour ago."

"What happened, son?" Ma asked softly.

Ford looked down in shame, the head-tilt casting a glare over his glasses so it was harder to read his shameful expression. "We were crossing the street when… sh-she pushed me out of the way, and… and…" His voice failed him. He couldn't spit out an explanation. He hoped his brother had said enough when he got help and Ford wouldn't have to fill in the blanks.

His mother brought him into a tight hug. As unmanly as it may be, he couldn't refuse a hug from his Ma, so she hugged her back tightly and allowed himself to bury his face in her shoulder. If Ford kept growing like this he would soon be taller than his mother. She rubbed his back tenderly and spoke in a quiet voice only for him.

"It'll be okay, son, she'll pull through."

She finally released him and patted his shoulder as he breathed a little easier. The polydactyl teenager waited for Grandpa's response to this, expecting blame and anger from him. Grandpa had a right to feel betrayed and angry; he trusted the safety of his granddaughter to the twins whenever she left the house, and Ford had failed.

But Grandpa Cece didn't look angry at all. He nodded at the young man in front of him and said in a cracked, weak voice, "Don't blame yourself, boy. I don't."

It was worse than if he did blame Ford. Feeling his shoulder tremble beneath her hand, Ma scooped up the clothes from Stan's hands and handed them to Ford. "Here, Stanford, go change and we'll let you know if they say anything."

He desperately didn't want to leave, but he needed a few minutes alone before facing his loved ones again. He took the clothes, mutter his thanks, and left for the restroom. It was a single stall, meaning no one else would hear him lose his control and cry if he chose to; but he was already a wimp as it was, and those age-old insults from his father and his classmates echoed in his head, refusing to let his eyes become wet, so he settled for screaming into the folded clothes in his hands to let out some tension in his body. Ford screamed as loud and as forcefully as he wished, even to the point that it felt like his throat would split in half. Once he was done, he gratefully changed out of his long-sleeved polo and into the orange turtleneck sweater and new jeans. It felt better to not have the thick, copper-smelling, red substance under his nose and constantly remind him of what happened. After he washed his hands and splashed his face with cold water, he felt ready to face the world.

Grandpa was sitting in a chair, his elbows on his wobbly knees and his head low, his hands together as if in prayer. Ma was sitting next to him and flipping through a magazine to try to distract her while Stan sat back and lazily watched the TV, his mind elsewhere. His eyes met Ford's and their twin-telepathy came into play.

Stan knew how Ford felt. He felt guilty, too, for not being able to stop Hephzie from getting hurt, but it wasn't his sorry butt she had saved; that special reward had been reserved for Ford. Stan also knew Hephzie well enough to know that she didn't do anything unless she wanted to, and there was no doubt in his mind that she wanted to make sure both of her best friends were okay, no matter what. Stan also knew how Ford's brilliant mind worked, and how it often turned on Ford and made him believe lies, like he was a freak or something was his fault.

Ford sighed quietly at seeing the sympathetic look on his brother's face and sat down next to him, covering his eyes with one hand, the other holding his glasses and dangling from his side. Stan kept his big mouth shut and just patted his brother's shoulder. The four remained still for another half an hour before a male doctor with short black hair, a graying toothbrush mustache, and a white coat and a clipboard came in and called out to the waiting room,

"Hephzibah Cece."

Ma, Grandpa, Stan and Ford all jumped up and ran to him. It was a miracle no one ran over the older gentleman.

"How is she, doctor?" Grandpa asked in a pleasing tone for good news.

"She's sustained several serious injuries, sir. She had three broken ribs, her left arm is broken in several places, and her right femur was snapped. Some of her other organs were also severely damaged in the accident, including her kidney and reproductive organs."

"Will she be okay?" Stan blurted, unable to take any more bad news.

"She should make a full recovery within the year, but it'll take time." The doctor answered, making everyone's breathing a little easier. "We've managed to stop the internal bleeding and cast her broken limbs. Right now we just need to keep her on pain medication and wait for her to wake up."

Grandpa's knees shook so violently it was a wonder how the old man was still standing. He thanked the doctor and asked if they may see her. The doctor nodded and led the way out of the lobby. As the little group ventured on down the hallway and past several rooms, Ford and Stan brought up the rear so Grandpa could enter first. The doctor overseeing Hephzie opened room 306B for the group and said no more than six visitors at a time was allowed during visiting hours, but after that only two were allowed. The four nodded, understanding, and the doctor left them to see Hephzie in private.

In a way, it was easier to look at her now than before. Instead of moaning in unimaginable pain, holding her bleeding leg, and lying helplessly in Ford's arms, she appeared to be asleep in a comfortable bed, cleaned, dressed, and healing. Despite this, there was her pale skin, the frown on her face that told them she was still in pain, and the tubes that went into her right arm to give her medicine, blood, and vitamins. Her dreadlocks were down, rather than her standard ponytail, and without her favorite earrings and bracelets, which were lying on the table next to her bed, her lively appearance was missing. Hephzie, one of the liveliest, energetic, spunkiest people anyone ever knew, was fighting for her health and looked more dead than alive.

Grandpa Cece took a wooden chair and pulled it up to the bed to sit by her head on her left side, her casted arm lying by her side. His bottom lip trembled, so he bit it. Ma sat in the armchair behind Grandpa and the twins watched a few feet shy of the bed to give the grandfather some time with his granddaughter.

It seemed like only yesterday he and his wife were hurrying to the nursery of a hospital in California, hoping to meet their new granddaughter. There, lying in a crib decorated with pink, named Alicia-Sarah Fisher Cece by her mother before she ran away, was a tiny newborn baby no bigger than George's hands put together. He should know; he got to hold her first and was so afraid that she'd snap in half in his grasp, but she was strong like her grandfather and grabbed not only his finger, but his heart, too. That day they drove another ten hours to take her home. That day George's life changed for the better and she became the center of his whole world. Now that little baby was all grown up, and in a hospital again for all the wrong reasons.

It wasn't fair. It was supposed to be the other way around. George was supposed to be in the hospital bed and Hephzibah was supposed to be healthy and vibrant. No, that wasn't fair, either. He knew the day would come, and that pained him, but that was the way things were supposed to be. George firmly reminded himself that Hephzibah would live and make a full recovery, and to help him do so, he gently covered her left hand with his own and gave it a soft squeeze as to not pain her broken arm. She did not wince or make her frown grow, but she did not respond at all which was, in a way, even worse than not responding at all.

Grandpa blinked away his tears at seeing his baby girl so broken. Ma looked at the young woman sadly, and then averted her eyes to her sons. She knew that if anyone was hurt more than Hephzibah or Grandpa, it was Ford and Stan. Stan's fists were clenched so tightly his knuckles were turning white and his teeth were gritted in anger. Of course her little free spirit's initial reaction would be anger at whoever caused all of this misery. Ma watched Ford carefully, having a good idea of how destroyed he felt. He didn't appear to be angry, but heartbroken. His head was low and his glasses hid his eyes again. His hands were stuffed in his pockets and he was as stiff as stone.

An hour passed and a nurse came by with an update on Hephzie's health and said it may be awhile before she wakes up, so if needed the family could leave the get their affairs in order. Ma volunteered to watch Grandma Cece, who was too ill-minded to be left alone, so Grandpa could stay at the hospital, but he refused and reminded Ma that she had to watch her grandson tonight, in which Stan stepped up and said he would watch his nephew tonight. Grandpa then pointed out that Grandma, his wife, could be a little… strong-willed, and would begin to panic if she didn't see Grandpa soon. The old man looked down at his granddaughter sadly, but his worry of her waking up alone was tossed out the window when Ford said in a low voice that he would stay with her.

In the end, George kissed Hephzie's forehead goodbye, Ma gave her son a hug and promised to be back in the morning, and Stan lingered in the room for a moment, looking down at Hephzibah and putting a hand on his brother's shoulder.

"You sure you'll be okay?"

Ford nodded solemnly.

Understanding his need to do this, Stan clapped Ford's shoulder and left the two of them alone.

Free to act as he pleased, Ford sat in the same chair once occupied by Grandpa. He looked down at her closed eyes and tight jaw. Her pain was mellowing due to the medication, and she looked more peaceful in her sleep. Ford's eyes moved downward to her left hand and considered touching it, just to feel Hephzie's warm skin and her pulse underneath his fingers. He didn't deserve to touch her, but she deserved to be comforted and reminded that she wasn't alone.

Ford placed his six-fingered right hand on top of her left and rubbed it gently. Her skin was cool to the touch, but would soon warm up. He slipped a finger under her wrist to feel her heartbeat. Her vessel moved under his fingertip, and that small movement gave him a great amount of peace. He held Hephzie's hand in a way so he could feel her heartbeat and prepared himself not to move all night.


	7. Realization

The nurse's job was to check on the rooms on her hall - Hall B - every hour or so. She had a system: she had a cart full of supplies that she would wheel to each door, reread their paperwork, and treat them as needed. The third floor of the hospital was geared to recuperation after receiving treatment from the ER. This gave her the saving grace of having to deal with gruesome scenes, but she did have a responsibility to care for them at night. Being a college student and minoring in psychology, she was well up to the task of treating mentally scarred patients who may have a nightmare after a traumatizing event.

Everything was quiet tonight. The first five rooms on her hall received whatever treatment they needed, unfazed by the nurse in their sleep. Some were alone, some were accompanied by a family member or a spouse. The night-nurse checked the clipboard by the door of the sixth room and reread the paperwork. Right, the high-school student that was hit by a truck this afternoon. The nurse remembered her and slowly opened the door to treat her patient.

The bed was by the window, across the small room, the door on the bed's left side. The nurse was careful in the dim light as she prompted the door to keep it open. A young man, about the patient's age, was sitting in a chair by the bed and had his head buried in his arms, his limbs crossed next to the woman's body. The nurse smiled at seeing that he still had a hold of one of her hands and the college student walked towards the IV quietly. The young man heard her and lifted his head just enough to look up at her.

Seeing the worried look on his face, the nurse said, "She's fine. Just time for another dose of medicine for the pain."

The young man nodded and sat up straight to pop his back, letting go of the patient's hand for a moment, but then holding it again before yawning into his free palm.

The nurse, as she re-hooked the IV, caught this from the corner of her eye, and said gently, "You know, you can go home and rest, and we'll alert you if there's any change in her condition."

"Thank you," The teenager said replied. "But no thank you. I will stay here if that is okay."

"Of course." The nurse said as she checked Hephzie's pulse. "Stay as long as you want."

The young man repeated his thanks and the nurse left. Stanford checked his watch. It was close to four in the morning. His stomach gave a small squirm of hunger, but he was too nauseated to eat. Even the idea of coffee made his gut turn unpleasantly, though he could probably hold it down in order to receive some caffeine and make it easier to watch over Hephzibah, but he didn't need it. He had yet to fall asleep and he doubted he would at all tonight.

Stanford rubbed Hephzibah's left hand, careful not to hold it too tightly or move it too much at risk of hurting her broken arm, despite it being tightly casted and ending just before her wrist. He was pleasantly surprised by how much better he felt at holding her hand and feeling her pulse. Even when his fingertip wasn't checking for her heartbeat, he found himself needing to keep a hold of her. Of course, giving the traumatizing accident this would come to no surprise, but as Stanford watched Hephzibah, he started to do some deep thinking.

He thought about how beautiful she was. He thought about their happiest times together, like fishing at the dock or ice-skating in the winter or eating at The Juke Joint or studying at the library. He thought about her cute red bathing suit she would wear to the beach. He thought about her long dreadlocks and how she would flick them over her shoulder before taking a strong stance. He thought about her cool sneers that earned her a punch on the shoulder from Stanley or a high-six from Stanford. He will never forget the look on her face when he finally gave her a high-six, an activity usually reserved for Stanley.

More memories flooded in and made Stanford smile. Like when Hephzibah first came to school and couldn't afford a lunch, so the twin shared their own. Or when Hephzibah pushed Crampelter off the dock and into the sea for making fun of Stanford's extra fingers. Or when they were fourteen and Stanley pretended to be Hephzibah's boyfriend in order to keep a creep away. Or when the twins turned seventeen and Hephzibah left a bunch of wood tied in a red ribbon on their beloved ship as a birthday present. Or when Alex was born and Hephzibah was one of the few people that could get the screaming infant to calm down.

Stanford continued to smile and looked down at Hephzibah, who slept soundly on the bed. He was lucky to have such an amazing friend, someone to go so far and do so much for him, no matter what. He, Stanley, and Hephzibah had each other's backs. They looked after each other and had been best friends since they were six-years-old. There was no question that things between Stanford and Hephzibah were different than between Stanley and Stanford; they were twins, and wherever they went, they went together. Hephzibah respected their bond and never once asked to see the Stan O' War or work on it or acted hurt when the boys wanted to go on an adventure without her. She firmly believed that nothing was more important than family.

Even so, as Stanford thought back to their shared childhood and reminded himself just how wonderful Hephzibah was, a question came to him. His eyes grew wide and he looked at Hephzibah's sleeping form with horror.

Uh, oh.

He had seen the warning signs, but pushed them away. Stanford thought that maybe Hephzibah just looked really nice in that bathing suit and that it was hot that day, not that he was blushing at her beauty as she swam in the sea. Stanford thought that maybe he drank too much soda and that was why his stomach ached when Hephzibah held Stanley's hand and kissed his cheek (of course, after the stalker was gone, they had both congratulated each other on a spectacular performance and agreed to never do that ever again after making gagging noises and pointing to the inside of their mouths), not that he was jealous. Stanford thought he was guilty over what Hephzibah had done for him, not heartbroken at the idea of losing her. But, alas, here he was: sitting awake all night and thinking about her.

Uh, oh.

Stanford let go of Hephzibah's hand and he stood up, pacing the small room to try to think this through rationally, his hands in the pockets of his jeans. Their whole friendship could be on the line. The last thing Stanford ever wanted was for his tiny friend-group to fall apart. And if he was thinking about what he was thinking, he needed to be thinking clearly. Damn it, where's the java when a guy needs it?!

Stanford continued to pace as he came to the realization that he liked Hephzibah and he tried to think about what to do about it. A month or so ago they had kissed, but that was experimental! That was only to get it out of the way, so they could move on with their lives without having to worry about their first kiss! Damn it, he knew there was a reason why he liked it so much! Damn it, he knew there was a reason why it killed him to see Hephzibah hurt like this! It was because he loved her!

Stanford ceased his pacing and gripped the edge of a sink. His head was spinning, his heart was racing, his knuckles were turning white. This wasn't a crush; he had his fair share of those and knew what they felt like, and this wasn't it. This was just too much for one day. Stanford swallowed, making his Adam's apple bobble, and he looked up at Hephzibah again. Would she ever feel the same way? Wait… she did already feel the same way?! Is that why she saved his life today?!

Stanford shook his head and stood up straight, forcing himself to let go of the counter. He quickly analyzed their friendship and tried to think of any moment she had done something different with Stanford than she did with Stanley. Apart from kissing him, of course. Can't forget that. Hephzibah had always been so careful not to play favorites and treated the twins fairly and equally. So, aside from the kiss, was the only difference between Hephzibah-and-Stanley and Hephzibah-and-Stanford was how they felt? Stanford had to take Stanley out of the equation and not compare Stanley's friendship with Hephzibah to his own. That wouldn't solve anything. No good ever came to comparing yourself to your twin. Stanford knew how he felt, but how did Hephzibah feel?

In the grand scene of things, however, it seemed to Stanford that their feelings were irrelevant. Hephzibah was still hurt, Stanford was still responsible for it, and the three of them were still friends. Stanford sighed and sat back down in the chair by Hephzibah's bed. For the time being, he would keep his feelings to himself and refrain from telling anyone. Who knows, maybe his feelings would just go away.

But he loved her. And those type of feelings do not go away easily.

Stanford groaned and folded his arms on the bed, rested his head on his arms, and continued to think about the complicated mess even as the sun rose about three hours later.

* * *

First thing in the morning Ma made Pa watch over Grandma Cece again so Grandpa could go to the hospital. Once again Ma drove Grandpa and Stan to the hospital and walked with them to the third floor and down Hall B for the sixth room. And, sadly, Hephzie was still asleep. Ford didn't hesitate to give his chair to Grandpa to sit in as he looked down at his granddaughter, forcing the teenager to stand by his brother, who gave him an exasperated look.

The doctor came in and said, "Mr. Cece, may I speak with you?"

"We'll be in the waiting room." Ma said so the men didn't have to go out in the hall to talk. The twin nodded in agreement and followed their mother. Once out in the lobby, Ma looked at her son and sighed. "Stanford, did you sleep at all last night?"

"No, ma'am."

She patted his cheek and said, "Well, I was craving a cup of coffee anyways. Ya want one, Stanley?"

"Thanks, Ma."

Ma left for the coffee shop down Hall D and the two brothers sat down.

"Seriously, Sixer," Stan said in a low voice. "I know you're worried about her, but you can't do this to yourself."

Ford held his head and rubbed his eyes. "You don't understand."

Stan raised an eyebrow. He highly doubt it. "C'mon, I was there. It wasn't your fault, 'bout as much as mine."

"I know."

"And, let's be real here, this is Hephzibah we're talking about!"

"I know."

"She'll be just fine! Doc said yesterday she's just wore out. Once she wakes up she'll be home in no time!" Stan said confidently and patted Ford's back, hoping some of his optimism would rub off on his brother.

"I know."

Stan gave him a stern look, getting tired of that stupid phrase. "Do you?"

Ford looked up at him. He wanted to tell Stan what was really bothering him at the moment, but… no, it was best to keep it to himself for now. "Yeah, I… I do. Thank you, Stanley."

"Hey, don't sweat it, Poindexter." Stan pulled out a deck of cards from his blue jeans and asked, "Wanna play War?"

Ford considered turning down the offer, but a tedious game based off of chance would give him something to do while he tried to think clearly. "Sure. But I shuffle!"

"Whatever." Stan said with a cheeky smile and he tossed the small box to his twin.

They sat at a card table that seated a dozen or so puzzles, and Ford used his birth-defect to his advantage and shuffled the cards before diving them up evenly between the two. The object of the game was to flip a card down face-up on the table, and whoever's card was the highest value earned both cards. The players would repeat this act until one player has all the cards. It was a simple game to play and could be done easily while either having a conversation or being deep in thought. While Ford fully intended to do the latter, Stan tried to engage his brother in a conversation to keep him away from his dark thoughts, just in case he tried to guilt himself again.

Not long into the game Ma returned with three cups of coffee and placed two on the table for her sons before returning to a chair to read a magazine and sip her breakfast. After a few attempts of trying to get Ford to talk to Stan, it became clear to the book-smart teenager that Stan wasn't going to allow him to sit in silence, so he decided to take advantage of the opportunity and talk to his twin. Even if he couldn't tell Stan that he had… that he liked someone, he could try to get some advice out of him. And, sure, it wasn't the best advice, but Stan was the street-smart twin and was better at social skills than Ford.

"So… is Carla still mad?" Ford asked tenderly, knowing talking about her was a touchy subject for Stan.

He shrugged and frowned a little. "Yeah, I guess so. Still won't talk to me. You'd think after a month she'd be over it…"

"You did drive her boyfriend's van into a ravine." Ford reminded him gently.

"Hey! Hephzie thought it was a great idea!" Stan argued as he swiped the two cards, seeing how he had laid down a queen while Ford had laid down a three.

"I seriously doubt that." Ford chuckled. "I believe her exact words were 'Ya wanna go egg his van?'."

"Tomato, tamato." Stan said as he laid down a card.

Ford did as well, saw that his card was the greater value, and took both of the cards. "When did you decide you wanted to go out with her, anyways?" He asked as they continued to play.

Stan gave it some thought for a couple of turns. Ford was about to repeat his question when his brother finally answered. "I dunno. I saw her dancing at The Juke Joint and thought she was pretty good. Not bad looking either. So I made myself go talk to her, and… I dunno. Guess I just really liked hanging out with her and… ya know, we had a good time together."

Ford paused for a moment, unsure if he wanted to ask, but he ended up letting it slip in a low, serious tone, "Did you love her?"

Stan didn't draw out his next card. Instead, he looked at the wall by his right shoulder and thought about the complicated question. "... I don't know much, Poindexter, but I know that I never felt that way 'bout another girl. I've had my fair share of rejections, but her's really stung." Stan then glared at his brother and pointed a deadly finger at him. "Don't tell anyone." He growled.

Ford dropped his cards to hold up his hands in surrender and then use his right to cross over his heart. "I swear. Can't let people know my brother's gone soft." He added to try to lighten the mood.

Stan chuckled and resumed the game. "That's right."

They played in silence for a minute. Stan guessed that, if things hadn't ended with Carla, he might have come to terms that he loved her, but things ended too soon and it was hard enough trying to figure out how he felt about a relationship that was over. Meanwhile, Ford was trying to figure out if he was in love at all or if he was just immensely grateful towards Hephzie. Then again, Ford had never felt this way about anyone. Why did love have to be so damn complicated?!

The doctor entered the waiting room and called over to the Pines, "You may go back and see her. However, it may be awhile before she wakes up."

"Thank you, doctor." Ma said and stood up as the doctor went down Hall C for his next patient.

The twins packed away their cards and Stan pocketed the deck. They went back into the room and found Grandpa holding Hephzie's hand.

"Unfortunately, I still have work to do." Grandpa said gravely to the Pines family. "I've gotta deliver three pianos today n' I can't afford to lose the business."

"I'll stay with her." Ford said firmly.

"Yeah, I'll stay, too." Stan volunteered as well.

"Thank you." Grandpa said sincerely to the young men.

"I'll take you back to the store and keep an eye on Georgina so Fil can run the shop." Ma said and pulled out her keys from her purse.

Grandpa Cece looked at the Pines family like he was seeing them for the first time. The Pines and Ceces have been neighbors for a long time, and no doubt friends - at least good enough friends to be on first-name terms and spend holidays together - but to see the family willing to do so much for Grandpa in his time of need was almost too much to bear. He stood and smiled at the three. "Thank you. Thank you very much."

Ma waved away his thanks. "What else are friends for?"

Grandpa kissed his granddaughter's forehead goodbye and the twins promised to call if she woke up. Once Ma and Grandpa were gone, Ford took back his usual chair and Stan sat in the armchair behind him. He grabbed the remote and turned on the tiny TV up in the corner. It was black-and-white, one of the smallest screens Stan had ever seen, and only have five channels, but it was better than the deafening silence, so he flicked to the news and watched the weather report.

With his brother distracted by the TV, Ford gently covered Hephzie's left hand with his right. He rubbed the back of her hand with his thumb and desperately wanted her fingers to curl around his hand in return, but she remained still in the dimly lit room. Ford sighed and glanced over at his brother, making sure he wasn't watching, but Stan was too boringly sucked into the news as it averted to the scores of the latest baseball games.

Time was meaningless to Ford as he watched over Hephzie, his mind elsewhere, but soon the sound of heavy snoring disturbed his thoughts and he turned to see that Stan had fallen asleep in the armchair. Ford groaned in frustration and was tempted to wake him up, but this gave him a chance to be alone with Hephzie, so he let Stan sleep. In fact, he slept through when a male intern checked on Hall B for the morning shift and gave Hephzie another dose of painkillers. It was a little after twelve when Stan's eyes flickered open and he let out a huge yawn, stretching his arms over his head and popping his knuckles.

"Slept well?" Ford muttered to him.

"Hey, it's not my fault the news is boring." Stan retaliated as he rubbed an eye.

Ford rolled his eyes, having no strength to pick a fight with his brother by questioning his determination to be there when Hephzie wakes up, and gave Hephzie's hand a gentle squeeze. His eyes were starting to feel heavy and the lack of sleep was making it hard to think straight. His mind was wandering so far away that he almost missed Hephzie's hand twitch beneath his hold. Almost.

He looked down at her carefully in case she was in a great deal of pain and needed help, but slowly, ever so slowly, she opened her eyes and blinked several times to focus her vision, the dim light of the hospital room stinging her eyes. She turned her head to see who was holding her hand and smiled weakly to see Ford by her side and Stan behind his brother. "Ford…"

"Hephzibah!" Ford gasped happily and let go of her hand to gently hug her around the shoulders, remembering that she had broken ribs. His arms trembled as he wanted to hold the young woman tighter, but he was scared of hurting her.

Hephzie kept her smile as she slowly wrapped her arms around his back, despite the fact that one had several wires and the other was casted heavily. None of them said a word and enjoyed the hold until Ford gently pulled away and sat down. Stan stood next to the bed and put a hand on Hephzie's shoulder. "Good to have you back, Hephzie." He said with a big grin.

"Good to be back." She replied as she rested her sore arms by her side. She closed her eyes and took in a few deep breaths to get used to the pain she was conscious to suffer through.

"How do you feel?" Ford asked, noticing how uncomfortable she appeared.

"Like crud." Hephzie muttered and opened her eyes to look at her best friends. "Are ya two okay?"

"We're fine." Ford said firmly as he took her left hand again. He was overjoyed to have her hold his six-fingered hand back. "Thanks to you."

Hephzie frowned at the bitterness of his tone and the guilt on his face. She slowly shook her head and said, "C'mon, don't do that."

"Don't do what?"

"Don't guilt yourself, Fordsie." Hephzie said as she slowly shifted her body to try to sit up. "It's not like ya… ow!"

Ford jumped up and gently made her lie back down. She had barely lifted herself from lying down when she gritted her teeth in pain, most likely from the broken ribs. She placed her right hand tenderly on her side and rubbed it to try to get rid of the pain, but of course that did nothing. "Careful, Hephzie!" Ford begged. "You were hurt really bad."

"Yeah, you just get some rest." Stan added in.

"I'm just tired of lyin' down, s'all." Hephzie muttered and held her head with her left, her other arm too heavy with wires to move comfortably.

"Here, I'll get a nurse." Stan said as he headed for the door. "Maybe they can give you some stronger meds."

"Hurry!" Ford requested and his twin was gone.

"So, what happened?" Hephzie asked, making Ford turn to look at her.

He sighed as guilt started to bubble back up. He rubbed his neck and rested his elbows on his knees. "Well, after you… after you save me, Stan called an ambulance and they operated on you at the ER."

"How long've I been out?"

"Only a day." Ford answered and he saw Hephzie's eyes avert to the clock on the wall. "Mr. Cece had to deliver some pianos today, but don't worry; Ma's watching your grandmother for him. Stan'll call him and let him know you're awake."

At that moment, Stan walked in with the doctor. The older gentleman smiled, his toothbrush-mustache rising slightly, and said, "Good afternoon, Ms. Cece. I'm Dr. Scott."

"Nice to meet ya." Hephzie said politely with a smile.

Dr. Scott reread her paperwork as he asked, "How are you feeling?"

"Fine, I guess." She said with a shrug. She was just hit by a truck. How did he expect her to feel?

"How's your energy? Any drowsiness?"

"Not really, no." Hephzie answered. "My chest aches."

"Ah, I guessed that would cause you the most problems." The doctor said lightly and checked her pulse with her right hand. "Given into account that you sustained three broken ribs and quite a bit of internal bleeding, I'm afraid you'll be experiencing some intense pain around your lower abdomen."

"Can't be worse than what I usually get every month." Hephzie joked.

Dr. Scott smiled at her optimism and said, "Well, your heart-rate looks good. How's your arm and leg?"

"Sore, but not as bad as my chest."

"We were hoping you might be able to give her something for the pain." Ford added.

"Well, she's already on some medication." Dr. Scott reminded the teenagers. "I can give you something stronger, but it would make you drowsy and, because you're a minor, I need a legal guardian to approve first."

"How drowsy?" Hephzie asked as she tried to sit up once again.

Dr. Scott helped her sit up and moved the pillows so she sat on the bed comfortably. "Enough to make you sleep, my dear. The idea is that it would help you sleep off the pain."

"Thanks, but no thanks." Hephzie said as she sighed with relief of being more comfortable sitting up than lying down, her neck and back eased by the fluff of the pillows. "I've had enough of sleep."

"I don't doubt it." The doctor chuckled and said, "Well, I'll have a nurse bring you some lunch and I'll check up on you in a few hours. Be sure to alert a nurse know if you need anything. That red button by your bed should notify them."

"Thank you very much, Dr. Scott." Ford said and stood, shaking his hand.

Stan copied his twin and Hephzie waved the doctor goodbye. She then looked at the two boys and guessed, "Knowin' ya two, I bet ya forgot to eat, didn't ya?"

Ford rubbed his neck nervously, knowing better than to try to lie to her. "More like I wasn't hungry."

"Does coffee count?" Stan asked; he had skipped dinner last night, too.

Hephzie waved a hand towards the door. "Go get somethang to eat. I don't need ya in a hospital room, too, cuz of starvation."

Stan laughed and said there was a deli downstairs. While he was more than happy to get some lunch, Ford was hesitant to leave her. Even though she was awake, what if she needed his help? What if the pain became unbearable? Hephzie saw the nervous look on his face and read him like an open book.

"Ford, I'll be fine." She sighed with a kind smile. "You'll be back in, like, an hour. N' when ya come back, we'll play some cards, k'?"

Ford smiled and tried his best to ease his anxiety. He couldn't afford to have Hephzie worrying over him; she had to focus on getting better. Ford would have to do a better job of hiding his worry. He gave her a quick hug around the shoulders and his smile became more genuine when he felt her hug him back.

When they let go and Ford headed for the door, Stan closed it after then and called to Hephzie, "See ya after lunch!"

"See ya!"

Hephzie sighed and relaxed now that she was alone to process the whole situation. Her ribs hurt a lot, and her leg and both of her arms were sore. She wondered how bad the pain would be without her medicine. Hephzie wished the paperwork wasn't at the door so she could read it. She noted the IV in her right arm, which made her uncomfortable to think of her being attached to a piece of equipment, and the empty blood bag. So she had needed blood. She must have been hurt pretty bad. And the way Ford looked at her… of course he would feel guilty. If the tables had turned Hephzie would feel guilty, too. She decided that if his attitude did not improve on its own that she would have to talk to him and try to cheer him up. It wasn't his fault. Hephzie made the choice, and if given the option, she'd do it all over again.

The teenager in dreadlocks took in a deep breath to try to ease her aches, but that only made the pain by her ribs worse as her lungs expanded. She winced and touched her side tenderly. Right, no deep breaths. She'd have to get used to that.

In fact, there were a lot of things she'd have to get used to now.


	8. Passion

Not even half an hour later, Ford and Stan returned with their lunch in to-go bags to find Hephzie quietly eating a lonely lunch. The smile on her face when she saw her best friends was radiant, and as she ate the last bite of her tomato soup, she made room on the little table so they could play Old Maid, with Ford in the chair and Stan sitting at the foot of the bed. The twins munched on their lunches in between moves and Hephzie sipped her water pleasantly. Since her internal organs were sensitive, it was best to give her food that was easy to swallow and digest, sense why her lunch was the soup, water, crackers, and a small bowl of chocolate pudding.

Ford kept a careful eye on her. He was paranoid of something going wrong. Maybe one of the wires in her right arm would pull out. Maybe she would begin to cough up blood. Maybe she'd get too tired. However, the entire game Ford smiled as he watched her grin. Things only turned sour when Stan told a joke and Ford and Hephzie laughed, making her wince, biting her bottom lip to keep from moaning, and tenderly hold her side with her right hand.

"Hey, you okay?" Ford asked, lying his cards face down and gently touching her shoulder.

"Yeah, m'fine." Hephzie said with a weak smile. "Just sore, s'all."

Stan winced sympathetically. "Sorry, Hephzie."

She shrugged. "Eh. That's what I get for being best friends with a comedian."

Stan wiggled his eyebrows cockily at her and they resumed the game for a minute, until Grandpa opened the door and grinned at seeing his granddaughter awake and happy.

"Hephzibah!"

Ford moved the armchair to the side to make way for the old man and Stan sat at the very edge of the bed. Hephzie smiled and sat her cards down to hug her grandfather. After the quick hold, Grandpa held her left hand and asked,

"Are you okay? How ya feel?"

"Grandpa, m'fine." Hephzie said softly and squeezed his hand. "Doc came by earlier n' said I was doin' good. Sounds like all I gotta do now is recover."

Grandpa smiled at how strong she was and determined to get better. "N' ya will, Half-Pint. Don't worry 'bout a thang, k'?"

"Please, ya worry enough for the both of us that I never get to." Hephzie teased lightly, making Grandpa laugh.

"Lord knows you're right." The old man grew serious for a moment, and then added. "But, please, Hephzibah, ya gotta take care of yourself. Get your rest, don't push yourself."

Hephzie sighed, but her smile still stayed. She had only been awake for an hour and was already tired of people fussing over her. "I'll be careful. I promise."

"That's my girl." Grandpa kissed her forehead and let go of her hand. "Right, you'll be stuck here for a couple o' days, so I'm gonna get some things for ya from home. Any requests?"

Hephzie's eyes widened at the great idea. "Oo! Can ya bring me some books? I don't mind which ones, just anything to read. N' any chance you'll bring me my harmonica?"

Stan laughed. "What, you gonna sing the blues while stuck in jail?"

"I just might." Hephzie chuckled.

"Anything else?" Grandpa asked.

"Can't think of anythang." Hephzie gave it another thought, and then gasped. "Crud! What day is it?"

"Thursday."

"Dang it, we had a test today!" Hephzie groaned.

Stan rolled his eyes. "Please, it was on European Socialism. I mean, what's the point? We're not European, we don't plan on being European, so who gives a crap if their socialists?"

"Still, this is our senior year." Hephzie emphasized. "I can't afford to fall behind! Can you guys bring me my homework tomorrow?"

Ford had to admit that the idea of going to school tomorrow while Hephzie stayed at the hospital was not exactly ideal. He had completely dismissed the idea of going to school today at all, and he guessed his parents allowed it since he was recovering from the shock of having his friend hurt so badly. As much as he didn't want to go, the young-genius in him told him he needed to, and he knew that Hephzie was right. "Yeah, sure." Ford answered. "I'll even tutor you on what you missed if you want."

"That'd be great!"

Grandpa left, but was back within an hour with her backpack full of books to read, her school work, and some snacks in case she got hungry. By then it was around three, and so the rest of the day was spent talking as the three men distracted Hephzie from the pain. At one point the pain got really bad, almost too much, but before Hephzie could say anything a nurse came in and said it was time for another dose, and within fifteen minutes she felt better.

At six, Dr. Scott returned to check on Hephzie and pleasantly greeted everyone in the room once more. "May I assume you're still opposed to the idea of a stronger painkiller?"

"Ya may." She said politely.

"Alright," The doctor said calmly. "Then we'll keep you here for a week and see how you're healing. If everything goes okay we should be able to send you home with some medication by next weekend."

"Great!"

A nurse came in with a prepare dinner for Hephzie and Dr. Scott said, "I'll leave you to enjoy your supper, and I look forward to seeing you tomorrow."

"Have a good night, doctor."

Farewells were exchanged and the doctor left. The nurse sat the tray down and uncovered it to reveal spaghetti, a roll, and some water. "Visiting hours are almost over." The nurse gently reminded the room before leaving to serve the other patients.

"I can take you boys home." Grandpa volunteered.

Hephzie's smile sagged a little at hearing this, but she tried her best to cover it. Honestly, the best part of this whole situation was being with her friends, but all good things must come to an end. Ford also frowned and looked at Hephzie sadly.

"Thanks, Mr. Cece." Stan replied and turned to Hephzie. "We'll be back right after school, promise."

Hephzie put on a sly smile. "I'll hold ya to it. Don't think I can't kick your butts, cuz I still can."

Stan laughed and gave her a hug around the shoulders. Ford did the same, and then Grandpa kissed her on the forehead goodbye.

"Rest well, Half-Pint. I'll see ya in the mornin' before I open the store."

"Gotcha. Have a good night!"

The three men waved and closed the door, leaving Hephzie alone again.

She slowly used her left hand, her non-dominant, to eat her dinner. She was glad she was alone and didn't have anyone to watch her clumsily eat her spaghetti, which was bland and almost tasteless, like school-food. The roll was decent, but less comfortable in her gut than the pasta. And damn it, no dessert?! This was getting depressing.

Hephzie forced herself to eat all of her spaghetti and wiped her face clean with the napkin (it was hard to eat with her left hand, her dominant weighed down with wires). After swallowing some water, she wheeled the table away and looked for the remote for the TV. Damn it, it was by the armchair and too far away! Hephzie knew she could call a nurse, but she got the impression that a nurse should be called in case of a medical emergency, not because she was bored. Oh well, she could always read… except that Grandpa had left the backpack on the armchair where Hephzie couldn't reach it. Damn it!

Hephzie groaned frustratedly and decided to entertain herself by looking out the window. New Jersey was turning into New York's lame little cousin as the sun was setting and the city was lighting up with electricity from tall buildings. Condos and apartments mixed in, and Hephzie could've sworn that she could a tiny line of blue that was the sea. It was a decent view, so she opened the blinds and watched as the world got darker by every minute.

* * *

High school sucked for everyone, especially for the Loser Twins. Ford may be the smartest kid in school, but that did little to help him with his social skills, meanwhile Stan was slowly sinking academic-wise. But that didn't matter. All they had to do was graduate, finish the Stan O' War, and they'd be off on their greatest adventure.

But Ford wasn't thinking about the Stan O' War. He wasn't even thinking about his academics. If it wasn't for the fact that Hephzie depended on him to pay attention in class, he would've taken a Stan-approach to the classroom and daydreamed, but the polydactyl teenager was determined, and by lunch, he found it easier to take his mind off of his worries when focused on learning.

However, outside the classroom, things weren't looking too good. As Stan and Ford headed for the exit after school, they heard a group of chatty girls gossiping away like crazy.

"... serious?!"

"That's what I heard!"

"Damn, can't imagine what he's going through."

"Oh, I bet he's going through Hell. I mean, Hephzie saved his ass from getting hit by a truck!"

"Any idea who did it?"

"Nah, but I heard it was some drunk guy based on the way he swerved."

The girls kept gossiping about who might have gotten drunk behind the wheel, but the Pines were too distracted to care. Stan clenched his fists tightly and gritted his teeth. Ford held his books closer to his chest as his stomach bubbled with guilt. Now, on top of being hurt and missing school and everything else, Hephzie had become a popular gossip-topic. Not that she was alien to gossip. She never cared, and Ford knew she wouldn't start, but that didn't make him feel any better.

He and Stan went straight to the hospital and got on the elevator for the third floor. As they waited patiently, Stan glanced over at his brother and saw the remorseful look on his face.

"Look, I get it." Stan snapped. "You think you're the only person who feels like crud about it? I was there, too. I should've done something. I should've pulled Hephzie away, or better yet, I should've been the one to push you outta way, but I didn't. But instead of feeling sorry for myself I'm gonna do something 'bout it. Ya know feeling guilty won't make Hephzie get better sooner, right?"

Ford sighed. Yes, he felt responsible, but his issues went farther than that now. "I just… I wanna know how she… what she thinks…" He let slip.

"Well, then talk to her, Brainiac." Stan teased, like it was the most obvious solution ever. "C'mon, you know she's not mad. She's always been easy to talk to. Just ask her what's going on inside her head and I'm sure she'll tell you what I've been trying to get through to you for two days."

Ford smiled a little at Stan before watching the light move from the second floor button to the third. "Thanks, Stanley. I'll talk to her." He meant it, too. As soon as they had a moment alone, he'd talk to her.

"Good."

The elevator opened and the teenagers walked into the waiting room that bridged the four halls. They headed for Hall B, and could've sworn they heard music. As they approached Hephzie's room, they found her door cracked open and the sound of a harmonica playing the tune of _Midnight Train to California_. Stan opened the door and saw Hephzie playing with a little girl sitting at the foot of her bed, listening to her play. The girl didn't look like a patient; she had on a baby-blue dress and black shoes with laced socks. She was Caucasian and had curly brown hair that was tamed in pigtails that looked like two cotton balls.

When Hephzie finished playing, the girl applauded her and the dark-skinned teenager grinned from ear-to-ear.

"Any requests?" She asked.

"Can you play _Boogie Blue-Jay_?" The little girl asked.

Hephzie saw her friends at the door from the corner of her eye and smiled at them. "Hey guys! How was school?"

"Like He-ck on Earth." Stan answered, quick to not swear in front of the kid.

"Nice save." Ford sneered before walking up to the bed. "Who's this?" He asked the little girl politely as she held her hands behind her back and blushed.

"This is Eleanor." Hephzie introduced. "Was just mindin' my own beeswax when I got a visitor wantin' to hear me play."

"Well, I can't blame you." Ford said to Eleanor. "Hephzibah can play some of the most beautiful music you've ever heard."

Hephzie blushed and tried to ignore the flattery by saying, "N' this, sweetheart, is Ford. N' that's Stan."

"Nice to meet you." Eleanor said in a quiet voice.

Stan sat in the armchair and said, "Well, c'mon, Hephzie! Thought you were gonna play _Boogie Blue-Jay_?"

Hephzie smiled and brought the harmonica to her lips. Soon the wistful notes graced the room and Eleanor grinned at hearing one of her favorite songs. Ford sat in the chair by the bed and smiled at watching Hephzie play. He meant what he said about her music; via piano or harmonica or singing, it was always beautiful and lifted Ford's spirit in a way he could never describe it.

Too soon, a woman in an army-green dress, short black hair and a long brown purse came to the doorway and scowled at Eleanor.

"Young lady, I told you to stay in that chair." The woman scolded and added when Hephzie stopped playing the harmonica, "I apologize for my daughter. I tried to tell her not to disturb anyone, but…"

"Oh, no! It's okay!" Hephzie said politely. "I loved havin' her over! She's welcome anytime!" The teenager seemed to talk more to the little girl rather than the mother, smiling kindly as Eleanor looked terrified at having her mother find her.

"Yes, well, thank you." The woman said and snapped her fingers. "Eleanor, let's go."

Eleanor hopped off the bed and waved goodbye to the three teenagers. "Bye, bye." She said gloomy.

They all waved back to her, and when she and her mother was gone, Stan turned to his brother and friend to comment. "Yeesh, who pissed in her coffee?"

"Her husband was in a fire." Hephzie explained as she tucked the harmonica udner her pillow. "Fought with the NJFD n' was trapped in a buildin'. I think he'll be okay, but he got some pretty nasty burns."

"How do you know all this?" Ford asked.

"I picked all that up from the nurses gossipin' n' the wife's yellin'. I was tryin' to drown out her screamin' with my harmonica when Eleanor slipped in n' tried to hide behind the armchair. Anyways, what'd I miss today in class?"

Ford opened his backpack and began to pull out notes and worksheets for her to work on.

Stan groaned and held his head. "UGH! We just left that hellhole! Why'd it have to follow us? Besides, Hephzie, don't you think you deserve a little break?"

"As nice as that sounds, the world won't stop spinnin' just cuz I'm out of commission." Hephzie answered as she fished out a pencil from her own backpack and pulled the little table over her lap so she could get to work.

"Anyway," Ford said, pulling out his Trigonometry textbook. "You didn't miss too much the last two days. Mr. Moore says you can take the European Sociology test when you come back. In Trig, we've been moving onto chapter six, however, but I can help you catch up."

Ford flipped to the right page and began to school Hephzie on what the class did while she was gone. Stan tried his best to ignore them, watching a new show called S*M*A*S*H, and by the time two episodes were over Hephzie not only understood what she had missed, but both of their homework was completed.

"Finally!" Stan complained and turned off the TV.

"Yes, now we can move onto Astronomy."

"AW, COME ON!"

"Stanley, please!" Ford shushed. "There are other patients recovering on this hall!"

"Ya know, I think there's a doughnut shop on the first floor." Hephzie said and reached inside her bag, which was hanging on the back of Ford's chair and pulled out her wallet to give Stan a couple of bucks. "Mind snagging me a box?"

"You sure you can handle a doughnut, Hephzibah?" Ford asked.

"I'll eat anything that isn't cruddy hospital food."

"Meh. Keep the cash." Stan said as he headed for the door. "I've got this one. Want anything else?"

"Nope!" Hephzie said happily. "Thanks!"

"Thank you, Stanley." Once his twin was gone, Ford turned back to schoolwork. "Right, so we've moved onto dark matter and black holes, which isn't too complicated."

"Okay. By the way, thanks for helping me catch up." Hephzie added in.

"If it wasn't for me you wouldn't need my help…" Ford bit his lip, but it was too late. He had already darkly muttered that too loud for comfort.

"Stanford," Hephzie sighed and closed her notebook, showing that she had no intention of continuing her work. "We need to talk."

Ford sighed and held his head. Stan was gone, Hephzie wanted to talk. It was the perfect time to be honest with her and tell her how he felt, but Ford was beyond nervous. This could make or break everything.

"Look, Ford," Hephzie said calmly as she placed her left hand gently on his shoulder, careful not to apply pressure to her broken arm. "I know it was probably really scary n' I'm sorry. I was scared, too. N' as hard as it's been for me, I know that there's only one thang worse than gettin' hurt n' that's watchin' someone you care about get hurt."

"It's just… if I lost you…"

"I know." Hephzie rubbed Stanford's shoulder. "I know, n' I'm sorry ya had to go through that…"

"No!" Ford let go of his head and sat up straight. "No, please don't apologize! I should be the one apologizing. If it weren't for me you wouldn't be in so much pain or having to work so hard to stay caught up in school or be stuck in a boring hospital."

"Will ya stop with that?" Hephzie requested, feeling like they've taken a step backwards. "I mean, c'mon! I had to do somethang! I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I didn't!"

Ford stared for a minute. He dared not to get his hopes up, so he instead retaliated with, "So how am I supposed to live with myself?"

Hephzie sighed and closed her eyes as she leaned back into the pillows propped up against her back. Of course Ford would use her own words against her, a favored tactic of his to win arguments. "Ford, please." She begged. " _Please_ don't do this to yourself. I'll be fully healed in no time, n' I know you'd do the same for me, so _please_ don't do this."

Ford moved from the chair and sat at the edge of the bed to be even closer to Hephzie. He wheeled the little table out of the way, and said gently, "Hephzibah, I… I'm sorry. You're right. I didn't mean to… I…"

He stumbled on his words. A man who's intelligence gave him such an extensive vocabulary found himself unable to express his thoughts through verbal language. Ford could feel something erupting in his chest, an animal-like instinct, to act on how he felt and show her, even if it meant it would destroy everything. He still didn't know how Hephzibah felt, but he knew how he felt and he also knew that he couldn't take her not knowing for another minute.

Hephzie just looked at him, waiting patiently for him to say whatever he wanted to say. Ford gave her a weird, pleading look, as if silently begging her not to judge him or hate him. Confused, Hephzie just sat and waited. Her eyes widened as he saw him lean forward slowly, hesitant, but he closed his eyes and prayed he wouldn't get a slap in the face as he acted on adrenaline and desire.

Hephzie closed her eyes, too, and before Ford could reach her, she leaned forward to meet him in the middle. Ford's eyes flew open as Hephzie kissed him, but he soon closed his eyes again to enjoy the moment. He felt like a lion was roaring in his chest. She had leaned forward! She was kissing him! Did that mean that she liked him that way, too?! Whether she did or not, the kiss was even better this time than at the library. Their lips moved, overlaying, and repeating the action of separating for a moment to then meet again.

When Ford leaned back and opened his eyes, he found Hephzie had that same look on her face that she did at the library, her eyes shining, her lips slightly parted, and pure joy all over her face. He should've realized back then that she had liked that kiss at the library a lot more than she had let on. Ford opened his mouth to say something, but at that moment Stan opened the door with a box of doughnuts in his hands.

"I'm back!"

Ford stood up and turned to give his brother a grin. "Great! What kind did you get?"

Stan opened the box and doughnuts were passed around. As Hephzie munched on a jelly-filled and Stan chatted with Ford about how busy the place was, The injured teenager and the polydactyl young man exchanged cheerful looks, and knew that there would be plenty of time to decipher their feelings.


	9. Recovery

Unfortunately, Ford and Hephzie didn't get another chance to talk (or kiss). Stan was always around and there was no way to get rid of him without coming off as assholes, so the twins went back to school and waited for the day that Hephzie could be checked out from the hospital.

They continued to visit her every day after school. Their visits brightened up Hephzie's attitude. She was always careful not to complain or look too depressed, but the truth was that she was miserable at the hospital. She was uncomfortable, she couldn't get up and walk, the food sucked, she couldn't sleep for more than three hours at a time, and she was lonely. The only thing that made her smile was when Grandpa or Ford and Stan or Eleanor came to visit her, but on Tuesday Eleanor's father was checked out of the hospital so the little girl couldn't listen to Hephzie play her harmonica.

On Thursday, Hephzie was abnormally depressed. She was tired of being injured, tired of being stuck in a dumb hospital-bed, and she was tired of not sleeping well. She was tired of being tired. She didn't even have the motivation to play her harmonica. Hephzie looked down at the tiny golden instrument in her hands and watched as the sun sparkled on it. She remembered the day she had gotten it; It had been a shared Holiday present from her best friends when they were thirteen. Stan and Ford had saved up their money and worked together to get Hephzie her very own instrument. While she knew how to play the piano and the viola, Helen was Grandpa's viola; the little harmonica was Hephzie's very own instrument, and her best friends had worked hard to give it to her.

Thinking of Stan and Ford, Hephzie had a little bit of motivation to play the blues to let out some of her woes. She put the harmonica to her lips and played the tune of There's Darkness (When She's Not Here). The notes were long and low, soulfully swimming through the air as Hephzie played her heart out. Her grandfather had always said that his little Half-Pint was blessed with the gift of song. That was a shared passion Grandpa and Hephzie possessed; their music lifted their spirits and it was a part of them that could never be shaken. They were musicians and always would be.

Dr. Scott was walking down the hallway when he heard the harmonica. He smiled at hearing the blues and opened the cracked door to find Ms. Cece playing with her eyes closed, so focused and immersed into her music it was no wonder that she was oblivious to her visitor. When she felt someone's presence, she opened her eyes to find the good doctor walking in, closing the door behind him. Hephzie lowered her instrument and smiled. Dr. Scott had been so patient and kind her entire stay; she had to admit that she would miss him when it was time to leave.

"Good afternoon, Ms. Cece. How are you feeling today?"

"Pretty good, actually." Hephzie answered truthfully (physically, anyway). "What I wouldn't give to get outta bed, though."

Dr. Scott nodded. It was normal for patients to feel restless or frustrated when they could only get out of bed to go to the bathroom. "Well, let's check and see how everything looks, and then we'll discuss your mobility."

Hephzie nodded and let the doctor do his job. He checked her blood pressure and heart rate, had her flex both legs and arms, and he checked her organs. It was weird to have a male doctor check her body so thoroughly, but he was a doctor and a professional, so Hephzie focused on her breathing and waited for the check-up to be over.

"Well, everything seems to be healing normally." Dr. Scott concluded. "We'll set you up with a nice wheelchair and discharge you this afternoon."

Hephzie was excited to hear that she was ready to go home, but one word made her groan in frustration. "A wheelchair?!"

Dr. Scott raised an eyebrow and allowed his mustache to curl slightly upward, amused by her frustration. "I take it the idea of sitting doesn't fancy you."

"I was kinda hopin' ya'd give me a crutch or somethang." Hephzie admitted.

"Well," Dr. Scott said slowly and held his chin in thought. "Your other leg is fine, and normally we would give a crutch or two, but you've also broken your left arm and several ribs, so it may be best to be wheelchair-bound for awhile."

"But I live on top of a piano store." Hephzie reasoned. "I couldn't even get home on a wheelchair. N' it's possible to use a crutch, right?"

"It's possible."

"Than can I try, please? Just give me a shot."

Dr. Scott studied his patient carefully. She seemed like the kind of girl to push herself too far, but if letting her try under supervised watch would settle her mobility situation safely, then the doctor was willing to give it a try. "Very well. I'll have a nurse safely take out your IV and we'll assign you a crutch."

"Thanks." Hephzie breathed in relief.

Dr. Scott called in a nurse from the hall and while the doctor got a crutch, the nurse removed the IV from Hephzie's right arm and helped her change out of the hospital robe and into her clothes. She already felt better wearing her blue jeans and favorite red blouse. The bell-bottom jeans fitted just fine over her casted leg and the blouse was loose and easy to slip on. Dr. Scott came in after a knock on the door and had a crutch in hand. Hephzie sat at the edge of the bed with a huge grin on her face and rubbed her hands together excitedly.

"Let's do this."

Dr. Scott showed her how to hook the crutch under her right arm in a way that would support her right leg so she would stay off of it. From not walking for a week, Hephzie's legs were weak and unstable, but she was stubborn and took slow, small steps. The nurse was close by in case she needed to be caught and the doctor was at a safe distance so he could watch her. With her left arm angled so it hardly moved and her right guiding the stick forward, Hephzie slowly stepped forward, leading with her left, unbroken leg and using the stick to move the rest of her body forward. She was slow, and every part of her had to work to move, but Hephzie was walking weakly across the small room.

"Impressive." Dr. Scott observed. "Let the crutch do all the work for you, and don't apply pressure to your leg."

Hephzie nodded, taking his advice to heart, and she walked herself to the door, turned slowly, and walked back to the bed. She was slightly out of breath and had to sit and rest, her underarm aching and her left leg already sore from carrying all of her weight, plus the weight of two casts.

"The more you walk the easier it'll get." Dr. Scott said calmly as Hephzie rubbed her underarm and smiled. "I'll call your grandfather and have him come discharge you. And I'll go ahead and schedule an appointment in a month to check on your progress."

"Thank you very much." Hephzie said earnestly.

"Any questions?"

Hephzie thought about it and nodded. She had wondered this for a very long time, always being fascinated with the medical field and helping people. While thinking about her sacrifice, her recovery, and her feelings about Ford, she had also wondered…

"How do I become a doctor?"

* * *

Grandpa was unsurprised when he heard a knock on his front door and smiled to himself at recognizing who's knock it was. He opened the door and stepped aside, letting the twins inside to head for Hephzie's bedroom. Her door was open and she was lying on her bed, her legs out in front of her. She looked comfortable back on her bed and in her blouse and jeans. She looked up from her book and grinned.

"Hey guys!"

Stan and Ford walked in; Ford took her desk chair and sat in it while Stan lopped down at the foot of the bed.

"Why the hell didn't you tell us you were coming home today?!" Stan barked with a wicked grin, punching Hephzie's shoulder lightly.

"Cuz I didn't know I was until today, ya knucklehead!" Hephzie laughed as she sat the book down. "Sweet Lord, it feels so good to be back home!"

"It's so good to have you back, Hephzie." Ford confided. He glanced over at the crutch leaning against the wall by her bed and asked, "How are you feeling?"

"I feel great!" Hephzie said victoriously. "I'm off the IV n' back home, I'm able to walk again, n' I'm all signed up to volunteer at the hospital next year!"

The twins stared at her. "You are?" They said in unison.

Hephzie blushed at realizing that she never shared her goals with her best friends. "Well… yeah. I've been thinkin' 'bout it for a few years, n' I've decided that I'm gonna be a doctor."

"Really?" Ford asked excitedly.

"Yeah! It won't be easy, but if I start now I can get ahead of the game."

"So, what's your plan?"

"Well, once I'm all fixed up in January I'm gonna volunteer at the hospital to get some hands-on experience. I'm thinkin' of focusin' on newborns n' infants, n' there's a volunteer position where I simply sit n' rock babies while they're in the nursery. N' if I keep savin' up n' workin' at The Juke Joint, I can get into a decent college n' work my way to a good medical school."

"That sounds great!" Ford said, happy for Hephzie as she seemed to have a great plan for the future. "Where do you want to go to college?"

Hephzie shrugged. "That's the only part I haven't figured out yet."

"I can help you do some research if you want."

"That'd be great!"

Stan was quiet most of the conversation, allowing the two to discuss Hephzie's college options. College was irrelevant for Stan, who at this point would be lucky to graduate high-school. College was for some people, but not for the Mystery Twins, who would soon be sailing around the world, hunting for treasure and solving mysteries and making discoveries and history. A sickening feeling was developing slowly in Stan's gut at coming to the conclusion that, one way or another, the twins would have to say goodbye to Hephzie at the end of their senior year. It'd suck, but at least Stan would have his brother along with him through thick and thin. And hey! They could always write letters or call or visit Hephzie if they wanted to. Stan liked the idea of sitting in the cabin of the Stan O' War, writing a mini biography to Hephzie and a few weeks later receiving one back, telling of her days at college and how happy she was for her best friends.

After a few minutes of rambling about college and Hephzie's options, Stan excused himself to use the john. Once he was gone, Ford blushed and said quickly in a whisper,

"So, listen… I…" But words failed him.

Hephzie was patient. Ford had told her to listen and she was ready to, but seeing how he couldn't express his thoughts properly, she sighed and spoke first.

"Look, Ford, I'll be honest with ya, k'?" Ford nodded to show that he wouldn't judge Hephzie for anything she was about to say. "I've… I like ya in that way. I've liked ya in that way for a long time, actually." She added, blushing furiously and looking down at her casted left arm to give her something to look at that wasn't Ford.

His eyes widened. "Really?"

"Really. But I didn't think ya liked me n' I didn't want to screw anythang up." Hephzie said quickly in a hushed tone.

"I understand." Ford said with a nod, a smile growing on his lips at seeing that they were on the same page. "I… I think I have for awhile, too. I just… I didn't know what to do about it."

Hephzie looked up at him and took in a deep breath. "So, what do ya wanna do about it now?"

Ford hesitated. Hephzie was being completely honest with him, so it was only fair to return that same amount of trust. The six-fingered teenager swallowed and answered Hephzie's question. "I want to ask you out on a date."

Hephzie stared at her love interest. She expected Ford to answer the question with a question by asking her what she wanted in order to avoid answering the question altogether. She blinked away her surprise and asked quietly, "What else do ya want?"

Ford relaxed at seeing her cool, collected smile, and he returned the look with his own. "Well, I'd love it if you said 'yes'. I want to take you out to dinner, something other than tacos for burgers. And I want it to just be the two of us. And… I'd also like to keep it between the two of us." He added in a pleading tone.

Hephzie thought about it. Not on her answer about the date, but as to why Ford would want to keep it a secret. There was a lot of uncertainty of how Stan would feel about his best friend and his brother dating. Hephzie would like to think that he would be happy about it, but a voice in the back of her head told her that Stan would be furious, hurt and/or feel left out. And what if things didn't work out? In Hephzie's mind, there was a possibility that Ford was only attracted to her because she saved his life, and she begged for that not to be the case, but the chance was still there. Not to mention that with all the confusion about their feelings and their relationship, the last thing the two teenagers needed was the outside world's opinion, be it Stan's or their families' or the public's.

"Yes." Hephzie said and nodded. "I'll go out with ya."

Ford blinked like a confused owl. He was just about to properly ask Hephzie if she would go out on a date with him, but she had already answered him. His mind seemed unable to wrap around the fact that someone - not just anyone, but the woman he loved - wanted to go out with him. He made a face-splitting grin that made Hephzie chuckle and he asked, "You will?"

"I've been waitin' for ya to ask me for months!" Hephzie said behind a palm that was quieting her chuckles. "Of course I'll go out with ya!"

Ford looked ready to give the air a good ole left hook, or cheer out in glory, or even take a leaf out of Stan's book and do a boastful dance, but all he did was grin. At that moment, Stan walked back in and sat down at the foot of Hephzie's bed, catching the smiles on his best friends' faces and how Hephzie had a hard time containing giggles.

"What?"

Hephzie thought up a quick lie. "I was telling a stupid joke the intern told me one night."

"I wanna hear it!" Stan said, rubbing his hands together menacingly; he never turned down the opportunity to hear a joke, no matter how terrible and cringy it was.

"Okay, okay… so apparently the intern's parents got a divorce. Now, his mom still misses his dad… but her aim is getting better!"

Stan broke into a huge fit of laughter and ended up pounding on the wall with the side of his fist. Ford rolled his eyes, but couldn't help but smile as he brother laughed, and soon Hephzie laughed, too, Stan's cackling proving to be contagious.

Stan wiped a tear from under his eye and croaked, "It's funny cuz marriage is terrible!" His statement made him laugh even harder and soon Hephzie was holding her aching ribs as they had been tested too much from laughing, but it was totally worth it.

* * *

 ** _January 10th, 1972_**

The holidays were an interesting time for Hephzie, Stan and Ford, mostly because they ended up celebrating three holidays, so the term "Happy Holidays" truly was appropriate for the trio. At first, it was hard to blend traditions together, but throughout their childhood they found a way.

The Pines family was Jewish, so they celebrated Hanukkah. Most of it was spent solely on family, but on the last last night of Hanukkah the Pines hosted a big party and would invite friends and family alike, including the Cece family. Hephzie grew up hearing Ma tell the story of Hanukkah, eating potato latkes, and playing dreidel just as much as Stan, Ford and Shermie. This year, the party was just as much fun, but now they had Daisy and little Franklin, whom Hephzie took upon to watch so Ma could play host, since the teenager with dreadlocks couldn't dance the way she wished with her leg still casted from the truck. The holiday was just as fun as always as Stan tried to cheat at dreidel and Ford told a million facts about the Syrians and the Hebrews that made Shermie cringe and Hephzie roll her eyes.

The Cece family was not only Christian, but African-American, too. The Pines family would join the Cece family for Christmas dinner, since it made the depressing three-person meal grow into a huge feast. There would be both turkey and ham (Ma was the only one who followed the no-pig rule; the Pines men found it too delicious to miss out on) and many other wonderful foods, just like on Hanukkah. After the meal, music would be provided as Grandpa would play his voila, Helen, and Hephzie would play her harmonica while the wood-burning stove warmed the room and made the guests cozy with hot chocolate. And, of course, along with New Years, the Cece family also celebrated Kwanzaa and would invite the Pines family to the big Karamu feast held on the sixth day, along with other friends from their church and around the neighborhood.

However, one tradition that the twins always missed out on was the church-service in the morning. As children, their father never allowed them to go, but ever since the Cece family settled in New Jersey and started to attend church, both Grandma Cece and Hephzie would sing in the choir and Grandpa would sometimes play piano. On Christmas morning, after gifts were exchanged, they would go down to the church and the choir would perform a special Christmas worship full of joyful music. Now, almost fully-grown adults, the twins were able to put their foot down and accept the offer to go; they had never heard Hephzie sing at church. Even if her broken leg stopped her from dancing, it didn't stop her from leading the choir in Joy To The World and sing her heart out. Her best friends (and secret boyfriend) were floored by her performance and vowed to return next Christmas to hear her sing like that again.

The holidays were usually a chaotic, fun, busy, joyful, anxious fiasco that would have Hephzie, Stan and Ford begging for school to start again (maybe more of Hephzie and Ford than Stan; it'd take a little more than the holidays to make Stan want to go back to school). This year, however, Hephzie was especially excited for the New Year for two reasons: the day after New Years she got her cast taken off and was fully cured, and she started her new volunteer-job next weekend. Her excitement was apparent when she was grinning ear-to-ear in the car ride to school, having the whole backseat to herself while the twins took up the driver's and passenger's seats.

"I swear, you become more and more like Poindexter every day." Stan teased when he saw her huge grin from the rear-view mirror.

"I've got a lot to smile 'bout, Knucklehead." Hephzie said optimistically. "Think 'bout it, just one more semester n' we'll be free!"

"More like Ford and me will be free!" Stan laughed. "You're going back to school after the summer!"

Ford muttered under his breath, "Ford and I," but this was undetected as Hephzie retaliated,

"Yeah, but I made the choice; it feels a lot better knowin' I'm goin' cuz I want to, not cuz I'm forced to."

Stan shrugged as he stopped at a red light, agreeing that it was a lot easier to do something when it was your idea.

"Anyways, this semester's gonna be great!" Hephzie went on. "I've already taken all of my hard clases, so all of mine this semester are easy. I even have a free period to get homework done!"

"Really?" Ford asked as he pulled out his own schedule and saw that he also had a free period. "Let me see your schedule." Hephzie pulled her house of her purse and Ford compared the two. "That's great! We have the same lunch period and free period!"

"Ya got the same free period, Stan?" Hephzie asked.

Stabn barked a laugh as the light turned green. "Nah, gotta retake Trig."

"Well, it'll be easier this time since ya know what to expect." Hephzie said as he gave Stan's shoulder a quick pat. "N' we still got lunch together, right?"

"All the seniors have the same lunch period." Ford pointed out as he handed Hephzie her schedule, making a mental note that they had most of the same classes, except Ford was taking Honors Language Arts instead of regular L.A. like Hephzie and she had signed up for an extra music class.

"Gotcha." Hephzie replied as she folded up her schedule and slipped it back into her small, brown purse, which her grandfather had gotten her for Christmas.

Most of the school seemed to be thinking along the same lines as the trio. Either a teen was gossiping about their hopes for the semester or walking like a zombie, completely miserable that their sleeping-schedule had been thrown off again. As Hephzie, Stan and Ford walked to their first class (American History), they passed a group of girls loudly squealing about prom. Hephzibah gagged and pointed to the inside of her mouth, making Stan laugh and Ford roll his eyes with a small smile on his lips.

"But seriously," Hephzie chuckled. "Do y'all even wanna go?" She asked the twins.

Stan shrugged. "I might go if the punch is spiked." He laughed.

Ford shrugged and made a mental note to talk to Hephzie in private about the dance. Going into senior year, Stanford didn't even want to go, but now that he had a girlfriend it sounded like a good idea. Still, it would be hard to pull off a date to the prom if one is in a secret relationship. And there was a good chance that Hephzie wouldn't even want to go, but Stane asked her in return,

"How 'bout it, sis? You wanna go to prom?"

Hephzie shrugged with a smile, her eyes on Ford. "I've never been one to miss out on a party."

Stan, oblivious to whom Hephzie was looking at, said proudly, "You've got some of the best moves in the whole school! Ya gotta go!"

"You're not half-bad yourself."

"It's all in the hips." Stan then sat his backpack down by a rocker and did his famous boastful dance that required a lot of lip-wiggling and tapping feet.

Hephzie actually had to put a hand over her mouth to quiet her laughter down and Ford joined in, his brother smiling at getting his friends to laugh. They walked into their first class right in the nick of time, but within fifteen minutes of class, Stan had fallen asleep and Hephzie and Ford were too submerged into their notes to notice or care.

The rest of the day went by normally, apart from getting used to their new schedules, and Hephzibah and Stanford finally had a moment alone during their free period. They could do anywhere they'd like during their eighty minutes of free-time, as long as they were back for their last class of the day, so the two hid in the high-school's library, at a desk towards the back where no one would find them. They knew they had to make this hour and twenty minutes last, because Hephzibah had work after school today and there was no way Stanley could get into enough trouble on the first day to get him detention, so it looked like it was now or never for the secret couple.

They sat with their American History homework in front of them, getting a short essay-question done as they whispered to each other.

"So… prom."

"Mm, hm."

"D-Do you want to go?"

Hephzibah gave him a grin as sly as a fox. "Are ya askin' me out to prom?"

Stanford swallowed. He wanted to ask her in a more romantic way than upfront in a quiet library. He was thinking over dinner with maybe flowers. "I'm asking if I asked you, would you say 'yes'?"

Hephzibah nodded, understanding, and looked back down at her paper, flicking through her textbook to find a section that would help her word out her answer correctly. "I would say 'yes'."

Stanford sighed in relief. "Okay… okay, I will ask you, then."

Hephzibah's smile wouldn't go away. His nervousness was cute to watch. He had that same nervousness whenever they held hands or kissed, and Hephzibah not only thought it was cute how Stanford's voice would quiver or how he would smile at being reassured, but it showed just how much he liked her. The best dating advice her grandmother had ever given Hephzibah was to never date a man who was overly confident, because if someone really likes you they should be a little nervous.

Hephzibah tried to focus on the Confederate States and exactly why they decided to split from the United States for her homework, but her mind wouldn't let her. She looked back up at Stanford to find him holding his chin as he reread his paragraph, checking for grammar errors or misspelled words. Hephzibah rested her head in her right hand, her palm squishing her right cheek. Stanford caught her staring and turned pink. He tried to ignore her, but it was very hard to do so. After rereading his work, he leaned back in his chair and smiled at his girlfriend.

"What?" Stanford breathed quietly so the librarian wouldn't shush them.

"Nothin'." Hephzibah sighed and stood up. She gracefully slipped onto his lap, her legs dangling by his right side, and she wrapped his arms around his neck, a popular position for them both during their few dates.

Thanks to the holidays, their time together had been miniscule ever since Hephzibah came home from the hospital. Either Stanley was with them or they didn't have any time together at all. Once school was out there was no way to lie and say they needed to get homework done at the library, and the family gatherings made it impossible for the trio to even get some time away just as friends. Stanford and Hephzibah were both grateful that having a normal schedule would give them the time they needed for their secretive dates.

There were a lot of reasons for keeping their relationship under the radar. For one, it saved them the trouble of having to get the approval of each other's guardians. While Grandma was too ill-minded to understand that her granddaughter was dating someone, Grandpa was a bit overprotective and may or may not approve of his granddaughter dating at all. Stanford was confident that, while his mother may be supportive of their relationship, his father was certainly not approve of whom Stanford has chosen to date. Another reason was that they were unsure how Stanley would take the news; Hephzibah was quick to say that he would be thrilled, but Stanford wasn't so sure. A third reason - that somewhat tied in with the last two reasons - was that the couple was still trying to figure how their own feelings that they didn't really need or want anyone else's opinions to sway them in their decisions. It was no secret that dating someone of a different race wasn't exactly socially acceptable yet; it was becoming more and more common, but was still considered unusual. Ten years ago couples were arrested for marrying someone of another race; the teenagers may not have to fear that, but it was still taboo, and Hephzibah and Stanford weren't ready to try to tackle the world yet.

Hephzibah ran a hand through Stanford's fluffy brown hair. Before, she would ruffle his messy hair, making it worse, as a way to tease him or play with him. Now she did it as a way to admire his uncontrollable hair, the soft, petting gestur causing the polydactyl teenager to close his eyes in comfort. He let go of his pencil and wrapped his arms around her waist, keeping her locked within his grasp.

None of them said a word; nothing needed to be said. Some of their best times together had been when they sat in silence, enjoying each other's company in a way they never had before. It didn't matter how different they were or how complicated things have become. What mattered was that they were on the same page, together, and happy. Their relationship was so young, so much still needed to be sorted out and explored.

Hephzibah dropped her hand from Stanford's hair so she could gently hug him around his shoulders and neck, free to kiss the top of his head. Stanford grew hot in his cheeks and neck, but he had enough confidence to kiss her on the base of her neck, the closest and most appropriate place he could reach at the moment. Hephzibah lowered her head to kiss his lips, and Stanford raised his head to kiss her back. Quickly their necks ached and they both had to pull away to chuckle at their failed experiment, their voices low so they wouldn't be caught. Stanford checked his watch.

"Eh. We still have ten minutes."

"Good."

Stanford had to decide quickly which he would rather do: hug or kiss? He decided ultimately on the later and he could tell by the way Hephzibah got off of him that she wanted to kiss rather than sit on his lap and hold him, which was more than fine by him. Hephzibah moved the work on the table aside so she could sit directly in front of Stanford, her hands on the edges of the table, her legs dangling, and her body leaned forward slightly. Perhaps Hephzibah and Stanford had already developed a strong connection, or perhaps it was because they had grown up together, but whatever the reason, Stanford found he could read Hephzibah's expression like an open book.

Stanford scooted his chair forward silently to be as close to Hephzibah as possible. Still not quite eye level with her, he decided to ditch sitting down and he scooted the chair back, free to stand. He placed his hands gently over hers, close enough to smell her sweet perfume and the cocoa butter in her dreadlocks. Stanford returned the slyful grin his girlfriend gave him and kissed her. She kissed back blissfully. She found Stanford had become quite the impressive kisser since their first simple one; none of them felt ready to straight-up making out, involving all functions of the mouth, but the lips satisfied their desires to show each other affection, and Hephzibah discovered something erupting from her chest as Stanford pleasurably kissed her.

Slowly, never breaking their kiss, Stanford removed his hands from on top of Hephzibah's hands and hugged her around the waist. Once again, Hephzibah hugged him around his shoulders and neck. Stanford found his hands stroking up and down her slender back before he could stop it. He paid attention for a sign to stop, but Hephzibah returned the action by grabbing onto the collar of his gold-colored polo and running one hand up his neck and the back of his head, her fingers entangled in his hair.

Slowly and hesitantly, not really wanting to, Hephzibah pulled back from their kiss and breathed, "Ford… what time is it?"

Catching his breath, Stanford checked his silver watch. "We still have five minutes."

"To get to class?" Hephzibah asked, her voice hitched quietly at knowing it would take more than five minutes to get to her last class of the day.

"No, until we have to pack up to leave." Stanford muttered and showed Hephzie the time, a cunning smile on his face, proud of his own cleverness. "Class doesn't start for another fifteen minutes."

"Oh." Hephzibah breathed.

With a smile, she kissed Stanford to reward him for his planning ahead. He kissed her back, enjoying the taste of mint on her breath, the softness of her lips, the sturdiness of her hands, and the passion that was behind her actions.


	10. Windows

**_July 20th, 1963_**

Ford was rereading a book while his twin threw a football and caught it when gravity sent it back to him as the boy laid on the floor of their messy room. Though the nine-year-olds had just finished supper, the sun still shone brightly, a good two hours before it would set. About halfway through the summer and other than finding the New Jersey Devil, the twins hadn't done a single thing except be prison-mates, for they were grounded all summer long. At first, it was pretty boring, but the two young brothers quickly learned that solitary confinement isn't so bad with the right prison mate.

A soft knock came at their window and Ford jumped off the top bunk to reach it. He saw Hephzie wave at him, her fuzzy black hair sticking everywhere and her face dirty. Ford opened the window and she crept quietly as to not be discovered by Ma or Pa.

"Hephzie!" Ford hissed and hugged her.

Stan got up from the floor and punched her shoulder lightly. "Hey, Hephzie!"

"Hey guys!" Hephzie whispered back and dug through the pocket of her overalls. "I brought ya somethang…"

Hephzie had made it a personal goal of hers to bring "treasure" for her best friends every day. If anyone got the bitter end of the whole grounded-all-summer fiasco it was Hephzie, because her best friends were grounded and weren't allowed to see her. She had tried to visit, but Pa only slammed the door in her face. It didn't take long for Hephzie to find out that she was a great climber, and so every night she would climb into their bedroom through the window and bring them a "treasure", since they couldn't go out and find their own. Today, she pulled out a tiny shell that swirled. It was the color of butter and when Ford gently grazed it with his fingertips as it laid in the palm of Hephzie's hand, it felt soft to the touch. It was perfect and not a single chip could be found, a rare treat to find on a beach full of glass shards.

"Wow." Ford breathed. "Thank you."

"Thanks, Hephzie!" Stan said and reached to grab it, but Hephzie held the shell back.

"Wait, wait, watch!" She said and held the shell up to her lips and gently blew on it. To see what the commotion was all about, a small snail poked its head out, its antenna-eyes growing longer and its slimy body leaving its home, making Hephzie's spine shiver as the slimy substance touched her skin.

Stan and Ford's eyes grew huge at the sight of the snail. It slowly inched towards her fingers, so Hephzie put her hands towards Stan's and he held it by his friend's hand to let the snail crawl onto his palm. "Wow," Stan awed. "A new pet!"

"Shh!" Ford hissed, afraid of their father overhearing, but no footsteps could be heard, and Ford was too delighted by the snail to worry too much about being caught. "It's amazing."

"Thanks, Hephzie!" Stan repeated as he grinned at the snail.

"Now he can keep y'all company!" Hephzie said excitedly, getting the idea when she saw the little fellow itching on the concrete. "What'll ya call him?"

"Sebastian." The twins said at the same time, without hesitation.

"Okay, Stan, it's my turn." Ford said and his brother held out the little snail. It crawled up into Ford's six-fingered hand, making him giggle, but then the intelligent child thought of something. "Where will he live?"

Hephzie grinned, having already thought of this, and dug into her second pocket, just barely big enough to hold a small mason jar, with a twig and leaf inside, and holes poked into the lib to give Sebastian air. It was clear that she had worked on this project for awhile and was proud to show her work. "Surprise!" Hephzie whispered.

Ford grinned and gently pinched Sebastian by his shell to place him in his home while Hephzie unscrewed the lid. Sebastian was placed on the leaf and then retreated back into his shell, dome with social interaction for the time being. Ford put the jar on the nightstand by the window and then turned back to Hephzie. "We have a surprise for you, too."

Hephzie grinned and bit her lip so she wouldn't squeal. Stan took her hand and gently pulled her towards their clubhouse; it used to be only a single blanket pinned up by a rope in the corner, but with all the extra free-time the twins had, Fort Stan had expanded by three blankets and was cushioned by a mess of pillows. The boys let the girl in first and she sat on a pillow, hugging her knees as they bounced in her hold, excited to see what the twins had been working on. Stan sat next to her while Ford crawled to the back where Hephzie was facing. He placed a flashlight on top of a stack of books and turned it on, casting a bright light on the wall of a blanket. Using his extra fingers to his advantage, he created a really good bunny and made the fluffy guy clean his face with twitchy ears. The details made Hephzie's eyes widen with wonder and Stan laughed at her expression. Encouraged by her love for the bunny, Ford used his arm to make a grassy hillside for the little bunny to hop up on, and then the bunny wiggled a teeny tiny tail, making Hephzie cover her mouth with both hands to keep her "aw" quiet.

Stan crawled so he was on the other side of the makeshift stage and started to create his own shadows. He made a dog crawl on its belly, hunting its prey. Hephzie gasped behind her hands and then bit a knuckle to keep from yelling at the bunny to run away. The bunny ran away and the dog ran after it, but soon a shepherd with a cane appeared instead of the bunny and the dog backed up. Amazed by the shadows, Hephzie quietly applauded the twins, who bowed on their knees. It was clear that they had worked on this project for awhile and was proud to show their work.

"Thank you, ladies and gentlemen," Stan said as if proclaiming to a large audience. "Now, be amazed, as we host the The Abbiforth Sisters and have them sing our best friend's favorite song."

Hephzie gasped and clapped as Ford crept out of the fort from behind the blanket and turned on a record they had borrowed from their mother. He came back just as _Boogie Woogie Music Man_ began to play, the trumpet playing as Ford used his birth-defect to create a shadow of a trumpet and he had it move along with the music. Then the boys used their hands to create silhouettes of girls singing along to the song. Hephzie quietly sang along with the trio of girls from the record.

"He was a famous trumpet man from out Chicago way, he had a boogie style that no one else could play. He was the top man at his craft, but then his number came up and he was gone with the draft. He's in the army now, a-blowin' reveille, he's the boogie woogie music man of Company B!"

Ford and Stan grinned as Hephzie grinned at the puppet show, admiring the shadows and how accurate the women sang along with the show. Once or twice, Ford would create a suited man playing a trumpet. At the end, once again Hephzie applauded them as quietly as she could while the twins smiled and bowed.

* * *

 ** _March 13th, 1966_**

Hephzie was finally alone, which meant she was free to cry. She had bit her lip when she ran to Mrs. Pines for help, she had hugged Stan back when he offered one, she had held her arms when Mr. Pines had taken her and the twins to the hospital, and she had smiled when her grandmother remembered her name and asked her how her day was casually, as if she had no idea that she was in a hospital bed. The twelve-year-old had never ever allowed anyone to see her cry and she wasn't going to today, but now that she had managed to put on a brave face, get home, walk calmly to her bedroom, and close the door, she ran to her bed, collapsed face-first into it, and wailed into her pillow.

Hephzie's arms wrapped around the pillow as she poured her heart and soul out onto it. The doctor sugar-coated it when she talked to Hephzie, and Grandpa had tried to reassure her that Grandma would be okay, but Hephzie wasn't stupid. She may be a kid, but she understood how close Grandma came to death today.

Hephzie had been doing laundry when she heard her grandmother collapse and glass break as she had been trying to do the dishes, and the girl ran to find her only mother-figure in a horrifying state. With no idea what to do since Grandpa was at the store, she ran and screamed for help, banging on the Pines' door and begging for help until Mrs. Pines, Ford and Stan ran back with Hephzie to the piano store to treat Grandma. Mrs. Pines had taken care of the trembling old woman while Ford called 911 and Stan hugged his best friend as she watched her grandma suffer helplessly.

Now that the danger was gone and that Hephzie was alone, she was free to dwell on the fear she had, to cry over the near-loss of Grandma, to come to terms that she was not out of the danger zone and could die at any moment. She was alone, until she heard a soft knock at the window.

Hephzie lifted her head and wiped her face dry. She even flipped her pillow over to hide the tears, just in case. She opened the curtains and found the top of Stan's head and a friendly five-fingered hand waving in greeting. Hephzie opened the window and leaned over the frame to find Ford standing on the fire-escape and holding Stan by his shoulders.

"Hey, Hephzie." Stan said gravely in a slightly squeaky-puberty-voice.

"Hey." Hephzie said dryly.

Stan looked at her gloomily, feeling sorry for her. He wasn't close to either of his own grandmothers, but he couldn't imagine how hard it'd be if Ma got hurt. "Are you okay?" He asked, not looking for a pathetic answer, but the truth.

Hephzie knew this and shook her head. "No."

Stan touched one of her hands that rested on the window-pane and said slowly, "Ya know… me and Ford, we're… we're always here if…"

"Stanley, hurry up!" Ford croaked as he started to crumble under his brother's weight.

"Shut up, Sixer!" Stan growled. "I'm trying to help my best friend up here!"

"By crushing me?!" Ford retaliated, his face turning red.

"You're the one who said that I should talk to her!"

"Well, you're better with people! And I thought you'd be quicker about it!"

"Just shut it and let me do my job!"

The twins quit their arguing as Hephzie laughed weakly into her hand. Her laugh sounded rusty, like it had been too long since her last laugh to remember how to do it properly, but nonetheless, she was laughing and her smile was genuine. Ford and Stan smiled at this and exchanged a high-six in victory.

"Y'all gonna come in or not?" Hephzie asked, jabbing a thumb to the metal-ladder installed for a fire-escape.

Ford let his brother down forcefully, unable to take the torture for much longer, and crawled up the ladder to the window's left side to climb into Hephzie's bedroom. Stan followed, and the night was spent talking of nothing but positive things and comforting Hephzie in her time of need.

* * *

 ** _February 11th, 1972_**

Free periods were, ideally, to be used to get homework done. Most students didn't have time in their schedules for a free period, but some seniors did, and the idea was that it was to help with the workload. Hephzie and Ford had tried to use their free period after lunch wisely, but their relationship got in the way and their free period was usually used to have an eighty minute date in the library. They had to be careful on these dates and be quiet, or risk getting caught by the librarian, but that was okay, because that meant they'd just have to sit close and whisper softly, which didn't bother either of the teenagers.

Ford cleared his throat and rubbed his neck as he sat with Hephzie by his side on the floor by one of the shelves. "So… Valentine's Day is approaching…"

"Mm, hm."

"Did you… erm... wish to celebrate it?" Ford whispered.

Hephzie shrugged. "Isn't Valentine's Day nothing more than a day blown out of proportion by marketers in a bloated capitalist country?" She asked, indirectly quoting the usual "Single Guy's" speech, as Stan called it, Ford made every February.

Ford blinked at her in amazement. "Hephzibah Cece, you never cease to amaze me." He said in a low voice before kissing her forehead.

Hephzie held Ford closer and rested her cheek on his chest, nuzzling on his soft shirt. "So I'm guessing ya don't wanna celebrate it, either."

"Please," Ford said with a roll of his eyes. "I don't require a holiday to take you out on a date, my dear. Besides, don't you have work that day?"

"I do." Hephzie said with a low groan. "We'll be so busy…"

"It's a diner." Ford chuckled. "How many people would rather go to a nicer restaurant?"

"How many people can only afford n' settle for a diner?" Hephzie pointed out.

Ford opened his mouth, gave it some more thought, and then nodded slowly in agreement. "True." He checked his watch and saw that they had ten minutes to get to Physics. "Time's up."

"Damn it." Hephzie sighed as she sat up and popped her back.

* * *

 ** _February 14th, 1972_**

Hephzie wondered if this made her a hypocrite or not, decided she didn't give a crap, and then continued to climb up the building. She had climbed up to the same window so many times that it was just as natural as a fish swimming or a bird flying. It was late at night, but when she peered into the bedroom, she found that it was empty. The boys were probably watching TV in the living room. It was always unlocked for her, so she opened the window and crept in. Hephzie was still in her waitress' uniform for The Juke Joint, but she had her brown purse over her shoulder and she snuck her hand in it to bring out a box of chocolates. No, it wasn't heart-shaped, and no, it wasn't red or pink, just a sweet treat to surprise her boyfriend. Before she could be caught, Hephzie slipped the box under Ford's pillow and crept out the window, down the wall, and across the street for home.

Hephzie was at once greeted by the soft snoring of her grandfather and knew that both of her grandparents were asleep. She checked the time and sighed when she saw that it was almost midnight. And it was a Monday, so she had school the next day. Hephzie went to the fridge and pulled out an apple. A quick snack, a shower, and then bed. As she munched on the fruit and walked into her bedroom, she was greeted by a small bouquet of flowers on her pillow. Hephzie awed at them as she closed her door and approached the flowers. They were Hephzie's favorite: purple, red, and white tulips.

The teenager with dreadlocks dropped her purse and apple at the foot of her bed, then picked up the bouquet. She saw that there was no note, but she knew who they were from. Ford must have snuck in while she was at work; she always left her window unlocked, too. She smiled and admired the scent the tulips made. No one had ever given her flowers before, so to have some come from someone she cared about, it meant a lot to her. Hephzie went into the kitchen to fetch a vase and fill it with water to keep the tulips fresh. Once the paper had been removed from the bouquet and the flowers were in a pretty, clear vase, she sat them on her window pane proudly and made a mental note to give Ford a deep kiss in thanks the next day.


	11. Caught

**_February 23rd, 1972_**

Stan wasn't an idiot. He told himself that every damn day. His brother and best friend told him that every damn day, with or without words. It was still hard to tune out the rest of the world, the part of the world that declared if he was a failure or not based off of his academic success, the part of the world that seemed to prefer his twin over him, the part of the world that often came from his own family. It was sometimes too much. Sometimes Ford and Hephzie's reassurances weren't enough, so Stan would go out for a drive and do everything in his power to not drive into the ravine.

Things were really hard for him lately. Maybe it was because he was growing up, maybe it was because Hephzie was planning for college, maybe the stress of school really was starting to get to him, or maybe it was because Stan and Ford were so close to finishing and Stan O' War. It didn't matter. What mattered was that he felt down and knew he had to roll with the punches and wait this gloomy feeling out.

He sat in Physics class and checked the clock that hung over the door. Hephzie and Ford had thirty seconds to get to class on time. Usually Stan waited until the last minute to walk into class, but he wanted to sit down and hold his pounding head. Hephzie was pretty good about keeping painkillers in her purse. Where the hell was she? And where the hell was Ford?! Along with a few other students running to make it on time, Ford and Hephzie bolted in their seats and sat in between Stanley, his brother at his right and the woman on his left.

Hephzie untied her ponytail to re-tie it neater as her dreadlocks seemed to be all over the place. She gave Stan a smile while the teacher, Mrs. Pat, greeted the class and jumped right into the lecture. Stan gave Hephzie a weak smile and rubbed his forehead as he pulled out his notebook. Hephzie patted Stan's back with her free hand while the other pulled out her own notebook. In the margins of his own sheet of paper, Stan wrote "Painkillers?" and slid the message to the edge of his desk so Hephzie could see it. Hephzie nodded, slyly pulled out two pills and handed them to Stan to help him get through the last class, along with her bottle of water. Stan gave her a wink in thanks and swallowed the medicine. He tried to give back the water, but Hephzie shook her head and wrote a note under Stan's. "Ya need it more than I do."

Goddammit, what did Stan do to get a friend like Hephzie? Stan looked over at his brother to find Ford drotting down a few notes and paying attention to the lesson, but he took enough time to give Stan a reassuring smile that said, "Hang in there, Stanley."

Stan smiled back while Ford turned his head back to the front of the class, but Stan's eyes stayed on his brother. There it was again! Ford wasn't a clean-freak, but he was tidier than Stan, and yet his collar was all messed up. His buttons were undone and his collar looked stretched, like someone had grabbed it forcefully. Stan's initial thought was that someone had grabbed Ford and tried to punch him; the idea made Stan's blood boil and he was close to asking Ford about it, but then he took note that Ford didn't have a scratch on him. And this wasn't the first time that Ford's collar had been messed up.

Now, normal people wouldn't care, but normal people also wouldn't have noticed. Stan was very observant and knew how to read people. He looked over his brother to try to detect what might have caused it. He wasn't hot - his face wasn't red - but his hair was sticking up more than usual. Had he been stressed earlier, so he ran his hands through his hair and unbuttoned his shirt to help him breathe? That was possible, but what was he stressed about? Stan decided to pocket away that suspicion and come back to it.

Stan watched his brother work while trying not to stare, looking back at the teacher or down at his blank notebook to think. Ford wasn't jittery or nervous. His eyes watched Mrs. Pat just as diligently as ever, and he had a small smile on his face, but sometimes his eyes would unfocus and then focus again with a quick blink. Okay, so maybe because it was at the end of the day it was hard to focus? Stan could understand that. After all, Ford just got back from studying at the library with Hephzie.

Stan turned his attention to Hephzie, who was taking minimal notes as she rested her head in her hand, her left hand prompting up her left cheek while her right hand wrote in her notebook. She also wore a small smile, and the more Stan watched her, the more off she seemed. Her red blouse was always lose and her black-leather jacket was always over her shoulders, even if just draped like a blanket (Hephzie always complained how cold the high-school was), but today her blouse hung off her right shoulder, making a bra strap visible, and her jacket was nowhere to be seen. Stan also noticed that Hephzie seemed to be blushing. Okay, okay, so she and Poindexter were late leaving the library and ran, making Hephzie hot and she left her jacket there, right?

The painkillers weren't kicking in yet, making it a little harder to think clearly, so that must be why he can't find an alternative explanation. An idea was creeping up on Stan and, for laughs, he considered it, but the more he thought about it, the more it made sense. Hephzie and Ford had been spending a lot of time together lately with that free period, and sure they'd hang out without Stan if he had detention, but it seemed like lately they have been acting weird. Ford was usually the one to suggest going out to eat at The Juke Joint. Stan had no problem with a good burger, so he usually didn't mind going to the diner and making Hephzie work. Hephzie had placed tulips on her window pane after Valentine's Day. Stan had assumed her grandfather had treated her to make her feel less cruddy for being single, but… but what if she wasn't single?

This must have been what Newton felt when that apple hit his head. This must have been what it was like for that Armstrong dude who walked on the moon three years ago. This must have been what it felt like for that guy in the movie when he realized all he had ever experienced was a dream and his life was a lie. Stan's mind was, for lack of a better word, blown, and all he could do was put a hand over his mouth as he stared at his notebook.

 _"_ _Oh my God."_

Stan wore a huge shit-eating grin. _That_ was why Ford took an extra ten minutes in the bathroom these days! _That_ was why he started wearing cologne during the holidays! _That_ was why Hephzibah winked at Ford during the Karamu feast! _That_ was why they always studied together during their free period or in the public library after school! They weren't studying, _they were making out!_ Stan felt like laughing and punching the air. His best friend and his brother! _His best friend and his brother!_ This was probably the greatest thing that ever happened to Stan, and he once broke Crampleter's nose and dislocated that asshole's shoulder!

Stan knew that he had some leverage and could have some fun with these two! Teasing them about their relationship, singing love songs whenever they were around, asking when the wedding was, the possibilities are endless! Wait! But they don't know that Stan knows! The malicious teenager grinned wickedly and spent the rest of the class trying to figure out how to mess with the secret couple.

* * *

Later that night, Ford was lying on his bed while Stan sat on the bottom bunk to prepare for bed. He slipped off his white t-shirt to reveal a toned body thanks to his boxing matches, and he laid down to try to think of how to mess with Ford properly. He reconsidered his idea, but decided to go with it. When would be the next time Stan got to mess with Poindexter for having a girlfriend? This was a once in a lifetime opportunity!

"Hey, Sixer," Stan said to grab his twin's attention. "What do ya think of Hephzie in a… I dunno, a girlfriend sort of way?"

Ford had lowered his book to give his brother his attention, but now as his skin paled and his throat tightened. He loosened the collar of his blue-striped pajamas. Did Stan have a crush on Hephzie? Ford's mind was going too fast to think properly, so he swallowed to calm his voice and then asked,

"W-what do you mean, Stanley?"

"I mean, she's smart, she's a total badass, plus she's sweet and pretty good looking, too." Stan said to the bottom of the top bunk he faced.

"Well, of course she is," Ford agreed as he started to daydream of her again. He shook his thoughts away and stressed, "She's a great friend."

"Yeah, but do you think she'd make a good girlfriend?"

Ford closed his book and held it tightly to give his fists something to do rather than punch his brother. He honestly didn't blame Stan for developing a crush on Hephzie, but she was Ford's girlfriend, but Ford couldn't tell Stan that! Maybe he should, then Stan's feelings would go away and then all of the lying and the secrets would be over… but what if Stan finds out and his feelings didn't go away? What if he ended up heartbroken again? Ford remembered how rough he took it when Carla dumped him. If Stan drove her hippie-boyfriend's van into a ravine because he stole Carla from him, how would Stan react to finding out his newest crush was stolen by his own brother?

The honest answer was, _"_ _Yes, she would make an amazing girlfriend, she_ is _an amazing girlfriend!_ My girlfriend _, in fact!"_ But, of course, Ford couldn't say that. Instead, he settled with, "I suppose so, but do you really think it's a good idea to date your best friend?"

"C'mon, Poindexter," Stan said lightly. "People do it all the time. Ya know what, I think I'll ask her out. Worst thing she can say is 'no'."

Ford clenched his teeth. "Good luck." He said bitterly.

Though Ford couldn't see it, Stan was grinning. Stan turned off the lamp and waited to see Ford's flashlight turn on so he could keep on reading, but it never came on and soon Stan heard the sound of glasses closing and being placed on the bed rail. Stan turned to his side and thought about his plan. This was perfect! Ford was totally freaking out! But of course Hephzie would say "no" to Stan, and when he asked why, she and Ford would have to come out and say why. Or maybe they'd just keep the secret up a little bit longer and Stan could keep messing with them, like if they ever needed to have some time alone he could stick to them like a blood-sucking leech.

Stan continued to smile at his devilish plan until he fell asleep, meanwhile Ford was lying awake and thinking about his twin had said. Stan liked Hephzie now, too, and was seriously going to ask her out! Ford had no idea when, but from the sounds of it, it sounded like he might do it tomorrow. The three of them had American History together first thing in the morning, but then right before lunch Hephzie and Stan had Language Arts together while Ford was at Spanish 4. If Stan wanted to ask Hephzie out, then would be the best time. Ford swallowed again to try to calm down the fury he had against his brother. It wasn't like Stan was doing this to hurt him, Stan would never do that! Stan had asked out a lot of girls, but he always went out of his way to make sure a girl wasn't taken before even considering having a crush on her. Besides, it's not like Hephzie would ever say "yes". She's smart, she'd come up with some excuse or nicely tell Stan she didn't see him that way.

Both brothers were confident that after tomorrow, this whole thing would be over.

* * *

Ford anxiously waited for Stan to say something to Hephzie in the car-ride to school, in the hallway, in American History class, or right before the three went their separate ways (Hephzie had Music, Ford had Honors Language Arts, and Stan had Statistics), but Stan didn't say a word about a date to Hephzie and acted like everything was normal. Hephzie was too tired from a long shift at work the night before to notice anything weird between the twins and went off to Music like it was no big deal. Ford swallowed as he watched her walk away, knowing that by lunch she'd have been asked out.

Language Arts was an interesting class. Mrs. Shaffer was an awesome teacher, one of the best in the whole school, and everyone in it had a great time. They had just finished reading _A Gravedigger's Playground_ and were working on an essay for it, but they had all week to work on it, and Mrs. Shaffer was giving them time in class to do it so if they wanted to ask questions they could. Hephzie and Stan also enjoyed having a class together, sitting next to each other and discussing the class. Today Hephzie wrote out most of her first three paragraphs, rereading sections of the script and pulling notes out. Stan thought about asking her out on a date right then and there, but decided to hold off.

Lunch came around and Ford had to wait until he was alone with Hephzie to ask if Stan had said anything unusual to her. Lunch was the same, up until the end when Stan had to go to Trigonometry and Ford and Hephzie were about to head for the school's library.

Stan touched one of Hephzie's shoulders and stopped her from following Ford to the library. "Hey, you got a second?" He asked with a small smile.

"Sure," Hephzie said and leaned against a locker with her arms crossed over her chest. "What's up?"

From over Hephzie's shoulder, Stan could see his brother heading off to the library to give the two a minute alone. "Well, I've been thinking, and I'd really like to take you out on a date." Stan straight-up asked her.

Hephzie felt like she had been hit by a truck again. Stan was asking her out on a date?! He liked her?! Hephzie decided to answer carefully; she wanted to stay loyal to Ford, but she didn't want to hurt Stan's feelings. He was her best friend, after all. "Like… as friends?"

Stan shrugged. "Not really. I mean… I dunno, maybe it's just cuz I haven't been with a girl in awhile, but… don't you ever wonder if maybe what you're looking for is right in front of you?"

Hephzie was in complete shock. She was in a state of panic. She didn't even try to hide the shocked expression on her face, but Stan had to try really hard to hide the laughter in his chest at seeing her so shocked. This was fun!

"Um… I-I-I can't say I have… uh… look," Hephzie said and took in a deep breathe. "You're gonna be late for Trig."

Stan allowed this to be a good way to release some laughter, so he barked out a quick laugh and asked, "Since when have I ever cared 'bout being late to class?"

"Well, ya seem to be tryin' a bunch of new stuff today." Hephzie pointed out as she stood up straight and backed away. "I'll see ya in Physics."

Stan let her walk away so he could punch the air and laugh while on his way to class. He had freaked Hephzie out so good! Of course she would never say "yes"! Stan knew that, but it was still a lot of fun to see her eyes grow wide and her lip tremble.

Once in the library, Hephzie didn't hesitate for a minute to tell Ford that Stan had asked her out on a date. Once she told Ford, he began up pace back and forth by the desk where they had laid their bags. Hephzie held her arms and watched her boyfriend try to think.

"I can't believe Stanley would do this…"

"It's not like he knows, Stanford." Hephzie reminded him quietly.

"I know, but… why would he suddenly like you?"

"Ouch."

Ford stopped his pacing and shook his hands to realizing his mistake. "No, no, no! I didn't mean it like that, I didn't mean that there isn't a reason!" Ford hissed. "I completely understand why any guy would like you!"

"Well, thank you," Hephzie whispered back. "But I still don't get…" Hephzie's mouth formed a perfect O as something came to mind. She held her forehead with one hand and her heart with the other. Ford approached her slowly and put a hand on her shoulder. "Oh my God… oh my God…"

"Hephzibah?" Ford asked worriedly as his girlfriend started to scare him a little bit.

"Oh my God, Ford," Hephzie look up at him and let go of herself. "He knows!"

"What?"

"Stanley knows!" Hephzie hissed. "He knows 'bout us n' he's tryin' to freak us out!"

Ford gave it some thought, and then he appeared just as shocked as Hephzie. "Oh my God, he knows!"

"I know!" Hephzie whispered back. "So what do we do?"

Ford began his pacing, but his shocked expression slowly morphed into a determined one. "Holy Moses… he thinks he's so clever, messing with our heads like this… but he doesn't know that we know that he knows…"

"Ah, ha!" Hephzie hissed as she pointed to her boyfriend. "So we can mess with him! If I say 'yes' to his date, he's totally gonna freak out!"

"Because you'd never say 'yes'!"

"Only to ya, hon."

Ford blushed slightly and resumed his pacing. "Right, when you see him in Physics, tell him you'll go out with him, and then he'll freak out and demand why you would do that when you're dating me and then we'll confront him!"

"God, we are so smart!" Hephzie bragged and moved to Ford, wrapping her arms around his neck to kiss him.

Ford placed his hands on her hips and kissed her back. Feeling bold and confident, Ford swooped Hephzibah up bridal-style, making her gasped in delight as her arms still held Ford around his neck. She kissed him in between giggles as Ford walked them to a bookshelf and he sat cross-legged on the floor with his girlfriend sitting comfortably in his lap.

About an hour later, Hephzie met up with Stan in the hallway by the classroom. He smiled at her and expected a confession, but Ford had given Hephzie permission to do whatever it takes to make Stan crack, his exact words being, "Seduce the knucklehead until he crumbles!"

Hephzie gave him a sly smile and she slipped a hand on Stan's muscular bicep, giving it a soft squeeze. "So, Stan, I'd love to go on that date ya promised me."

Stan's eyes widened at Hephzie's actions and words. She was flirting with him?! And agreeing to go out on a date?! Stan was starting to think that this was getting out of hand. He couldn't believe Hephzie would do that to his brother! He had known Hephzie his whole life and knew she would never cheat… wait… it took all the power Stan had to pull out a sexy grin and say in a calm voice, "Alright, well no one will be home tonight so why don't you come down to the pawn shop?"

"Will there be snacks?"

"Oh, is that what they're calling it now?" Stan asked as he wiggled his eyebrows.

Hephzie was just as good of an actor as Stan and replied back in a longing tone. "Well, I'll come with a big appetite." To seal the deal and really freak Stan out, Hephzie pinched Stan's butt and walked into class.

Ford had been spying on them from behind a book further down the hall and bit his fist to keep from laughing at Stan's face. It was a deep cherry red and it took Stan a minute to collect himself before he walked into class. Ford closed the book and tried to dial his big grin down a couple of notches as he entered the classroom. Stan was totally going to break before Hephzie does.

Later, while Ma was making dinner and Stan was watching TV, Ford used the phone in his room to call Hephzie while he did homework on his desk.

" _How far am I gonna have to do with Stan?_ " Hephzie asked from the other line as she looked through her closet for the sexiest outfit she had.

"Hephzibah, calm down," Ford said. "Stanley will give in way before you do."

" _Well I know that, but how far am I gonna have to go?_ " Hephzie pressed.

"Look, I promise that whatever you have to do I won't be mad." Ford told her as he finished solving a Physics equation. "Just make sure you kick his ass and win!"

Hephzie giggled, making Ford blush. " _Geez, since when are ya this competitive?_ "

"Since I love seeing my girlfriend kick some ass, that's when!" Ford sneered with a grin.

"Okay, okay," Hephzie said and pulled out a revealing navy-blue dress she had been saving for a nice date-night with Ford, but she guessed this scheme would do. "So it'll be just be me and Stan, right?"

" _Right,_ " Ford confirmed as Hephzie placed her dress on her bed. " _Ma and Pa are meeting the Goldbergs for dinner and I'm going to tell Stanley that I'll be at the library, but I'll be with you the entire time._ "

"Why does that not reassure me?" Hephzie said sarcastically as she started to undo her jeans. Ford's chuckle made her smile, and she said, "Alright, I have to go change, but meet me at my place as soon as ya can."

" _I'll be there_."

Once Ma finished the spaghetti for the twins, she and Pa left for their night out with their friends, Mr. and Mrs. Goldberg, leaving Stan and Ford alone in the house. As promised, Ford let for the "library" around six-thirty and snuck over to Hephzie's place. Grandpa was downstairs balancing the checkbook in the piano store and Grandma was in her bedroom so Ford didn't have to climb in through Hephzie's bedroom window. He had to admit that Hephzie looked beautiful in her navy-blue dress; it was long, barely grazing the floor, and had long, puffy sleeves like her red blouse, but it was low cut and displayed her chest quite nicely.

"Wow." Ford only said when Hephzie let him into her bedroom.

"Thanks." She said with a slight blush and sprayed her perfume into the air before walking through it to give her a sweet, fresh scent. Hephzie then clapped her hands together and rubbed them. "Showtime."

The two walked across the street for Pines' Pawns and went around back for the private entrance. Ford hid at the bottom of the stairwell while Hephzie climbed to the top. She knocked on the door and it was quickly answered by Stan.

"Hephzie."

"Stan."

"C'min."

"Thanks."

As soon as the door was closed, Ford raced up the stairs to listen by the door. Meanwhile, inside, Stan led Hephzie into the kitchen/dining-room/living-room area, where a bottle of white wine and two glasses waited for them on the table.

"Where did ya get wine?" Hephzie asked slyly.

"I know a guy." Stan said as he uncorked the bottle and poured himself and Hephzie a glass.

"Why does that not surprise me?"

Stan handed her a glass and they toasted. Once the alcohol reached their lips they drank until their glasses were empty, both needing a stiff drink to ease their nerves. Wanting something that would fill the stiff air, Stan turned the radio by the couch on and soft jazz started to play. Hephzie smiled, a savage idea crawling up her mind, and she started to slow dance, moving her hips and chest sexually as she tried not to cringe. She really didn't want to, but she had to try to make Stan crack. Stan also tried not to cringe, but he had to try to keep his guard up and make Hephzie crack.

Stan tried to give a confident smile, but his chin quivered slightly. "Nice moves."

Hephzie also tried to smile, but it was getting harder and harder to keep up the performance. "Thanks. Wh-when ya say stuff like that, it makes me wanna tear that t-t-t-shirt right off."

Stan's face turned pink and he swallowed, making his Adam's apple bobble.

"Oh, do ya not want me to?" Hephzie asked, hoping that her question would be enough to break Stan.

"No!" Stan said and quickly came up with an excuse. "But first I'd like to massage your neck and shoulders." He spat.

Hephzie's face turned to stone in order to avoid dropping her jaw. "Well that would be nice. You'll need lotion." She croaked.

"I'll go get the lotion." Stan said before running for the bathroom.

Hephzie ran for the door where Ford was hiding behind and threw it open. "This is goin' too far! He went to go get lotion!" She hissed.

"He's bluffing!" Ford argued. "He's definitely going to break before you do!"

"Stanford…"

"Just go get some!" Ford said, kissed her lips, and then closed the door before Stan could see him.

Stan, meanwhile, was splashing his face with cold water and muttering to himself. "She's not backing down! She wants me to put lotion on her! She has to break eventually, Stan, just roll with the punches." He dried off his face, grabbed the bottle of lotion, and went out the door. He saw Hephzie at the door and smiled. "Oh, you're leaving?"

Hephzie said the first thing that came to mind. "Not without ya, _Lover_."

Stan's eyes widened and then narrowed. Enough was enough. He was going to make Hephzie squeal and admit that she was dating Ford. Stan put the lotion down and put on his most charming smile. Hephzie did her best to match it, and while she was a great competitor, this wasn't like when that creep years ago was stalking them and Stan had pretended to be her boyfriend so the creep would back off. Back then, they didn't have anything to lose, but here they both did. Stan smoothly put a hand on Hephzie's waist and got closer to her. Hephzie retaliated by putting both of her hands on his shoulders. They slowly inched slower until their chests were almost touching. Hephzie bit her lip. Stan kept his smile and said, "Guess there's nothing left to do but kiss."

"Yup." Hephzie said as calmly as she could. "Our first kiss."

Hephzie held her breath at seeing Stan lean forward, his lips weren't even puckered yet, when she broke away from his hold and threw her hands in the air.

"OKAY! OKAY, OKAY, FINE, YA WIN!" She yelled in complete misery.

Stan turned off the radio to hear her better, laughed, and punched the air. "What do you mean?" He asked, unable to contain the happiness from his voice.

"I can't kiss ya! I can't go out with ya, either!" Hephzie yelled.

Stan had never been so happy to be rejected by a girl. "And why not?" He asked; he was going to make Hephzie say it.

"Cuz I'm in love with Ford!" Hephzie spat before she could think about her words.

It was like so much - too much - happened in one moment that it made the world stop. Right as Hephzie had proclaimed her feelings for her secret boyfriend, Ford had opened the door and came in, and Ma and Pa had come in through the other door just in time to hear what Hephzie said, flabbergasted that she was here and yelling at Stan while wearing a very nice dress.

"Wait, what?!" Stan had gasped happily, his smile growing.

"What?!" The parents had gasped, one confused, one not pleased.

"What?" Ford had gasped softly as he slowly entered the room so he stood a few feet to his brother's right.

Hephzie was shaking slightly from the adrenaline of being pressured until she cracked, and now out of fear of what she had done. The secret was out, and Hephzie couldn't take it back, but she wouldn't even if she could. Hephzie swallowed and made herself look only at the twins as she continued to explain as to why she couldn't kiss Stan. "Yeah… yeah, ya heard me! I'll tell the whole world! I'll scream it from the rooftops! I love him! I. Love. Him!" She yelled proudly as she pointed from herself to Ford with every word. Hephzie's confidence started to wane, so she held her arms and looked her boyfriend dead in the eye, as if he was the only one in the world. "I love you, Stanford."

Once the shock had worn off, Ford slowly formed a huge smile, one that reached his sparkling brown eyes and rosy cheeks. Hephzie had just told him she loved him… someone loved him, and more importantly... someone that he loved, loved him back. Ford stepped towards her and held her around the waist gently. "I love you, too, Hephzibah."

Hephzie grinned and wrapped her arms around his neck, bringing him close for a kiss.

They didn't get to kiss long, for they turned to face Stan when they heard him "aw" in admiration and say, "I thought you two were just making out, I didn't know you were… dudes!" Stan punched Ford's shoulder and brought Hephzie into a quick one-armed hug. "This is the best day of my life!"

"You're not upset?" Ford confirmed.

"Hell no!"

"Stanley!"

"Sorry, Ma," Stan injected quickly before going on. "My best friend and my brother? C'mon! This is great! I wondered when you two were gonna actually do something! Pretty soon you'll be my sis for real, sis!" Stan teased Hephzie and then ruffled Ford's hair.

Ford laughed and lightly shoved his brother off of him. The polydactyl teenager turned his attention to his parents, whom he was more concerned about their approval. Hephzie also acknowledged their presence, worried that she may never be allowed in his house ever again. Before anyone could say a word, Ford put a protective hand on Hephzie's shoulder and held her close. She wrapped an arm around his waist to keep him close.

"Well," Ford said stiffly. "What do you think?"

Ma had her hands clapped together and by her red lips, said lips turned upward into a smile. Ford smiled back at her at seeing the tears in her eyes. He then looked at his father, whose arms were crossed over his chest, his sunglasses hiding his eyes, and his mouth in a tight line, almost hidden by his mustache.

"I'm not impressed." Pa said in his usual, cold tone.

Ford's hold on Hephzie tightened. "I thought you might be, sir." Ford swallowed and braced himself for impact. "But I'm still going to see her."

"Fil," Ma said firmly before her husband could say a word. "Let's leave 'em be for now." Ma and Pa walked across the room and down the hall for their bedroom.

Once the door closed, the young couple turned to the sound of soft music. Stan had turned on the radio again and he headed for his bedroom. "You two have fun." He said sincerely and left them alone.

Hephzie and Ford looked at each other, silently considering the opportunity in front of them. After everything that's happened, all Hephzie wanted was to be with Ford, so she wrapped her arms around his neck again and rested her head on his shoulder. Ford smiled, held her by her slim waist, and rested his head on her shoulder. Slowly, in time with the music, the two began to sway along with the song and move in a small circle. Ford's hands ran up and down Hephzie's back while she ran a hand through his hair and kissed his neck.

Ford wasn't sure how things would work out; they still needed to tell Hephzie's grandparents, and they still needed to figure how what to do about Pa, and there was still a million questions that needed answers, but with Hephzibah Cece in his arms and dancing with him, Stanford Pines found it hard to worry about the future, and so he kissed her cheek and held her tightly, eyes closed, as they danced along to the smooth jazz.


	12. Confidence

Prom at Glass Shard High was earlier than the other neighboring schools. Rumors said that the logic behind it was that since prom was the weekend before Spring Break, when the students returned from break they would focus on their studies and not on what to wear or if they should lose their virginity or not. This, however, made the anticipation for Spring Break even stronger, and by now the whole school was too busy getting ready for the big dance to care about their classes.

Even Ford was jumping on the bandwagon and taking a break from his studies. He still grinned like an idiot when he remembered the night he had properly asked Hephzie to go to prom with him. They had gone out to a nice Italian restaurant, a favorite date for more sophisticated nights, and before the breadsticks even reached their table, Ford had held Hephzie's hand and begged her to go to prom with him. Of course, she said yes, and so they had a month to plan the night out.

There were a few changes for Hephzie and Ford now that there relationship was public, but most of them were good. Most of the teenagers at school talked about them, but not more than usual. The Loser Twins would always be a hot topic of gossip, and their weird friend was no exception, but the tune changed when people saw Hephzie and Ford holdings hands in the hall or giving a quick kiss on the cheek goodbye. If anything, people were impressed that a dork like Ford got a girl and it put a lot of single men to shame. A running joke for the senior class was, "If Six-Fingers can get a date to prom, so can you!"

Hephzie and Ford were happy to take the jokes any day rather than the judgment they had anticipated. The day after Ford's parents found out about their relationship, he surprised Hephzie by going up to her grandfather and proudly telling the old man that Ford loved Hephzie and would do anything to make her happy. Hephzie was delighted when Grandpa patted Ford's back and gave the young couple his blessing. They tried to explain it to Grandma, but all she did was ask Ford if he wanted a snack and told Hephzie to go kill the giant polar bear in the laundry room (it turned out that the dryer was rumbling and Grandma had mistaken it for a bear). Ma was very happy for the two of them and was quick to say that she always had a hunch and was wondered when they were going to start dating, earning her a high-five from Stan as he had wondered the same thing. Pa was really the only one that didn't seem to approve of Ford's choice to date a bastardized young woman, despite the fact that Pa had known Hephzie since she was six-years-old. Pa didn't hate her, but he simply wasn't impressed and made his opinion clear through his usual crossed-arms and grunts.

Ford found he really couldn't care less how his father felt. Ford like he was king of the world. Everything seemed to be going his way. School was good, he had a girlfriend and was taking her to prom, and Stan was more than supportive of their relationship (almost to a point where it was getting annoying). However, Ford was becoming paranoid that someone was going to kick him off his throne and take his place.

Hephzie was always very beautiful. She had a nice body, beautiful face, gorgeous brown eyes and an amazing smile. Honestly, if Hephzie hadn't been known as a "weirdo" for hanging out with losers and not liking "girly" things, she may have been very popular, but Hephzie had always made it very clear where her priorities lied and they never wavered as she grew up. Most of the students were starting to look past Hephzie's choice of friends and though she was never "popular", it could be argued that she was friends - no, "acquaintances" was a better term - with nearly everyone in the school; she was simply a social butterfly. She wasn't close with anyone, but she didn't hesitate to high-five Sam from gym class, or help Samantha in Biology, or catch up with Natasha before Economics.

Now, this never bothered Ford or Stan; Hephzie had proven her loyalty to them time after time that they never worried about her deciding that she was better off with other friends and leaving the twins in the dust, but ever since the beginning of high-school Hephzie had become more attractive to the other guys their age. Hephzie would never forget Demetri, that guy who had asked her out as a joke their freshman year. She was pretty upset about it, but not nearly as upset about it as her best friends, who gave the jerk a black eye and a busted lip, but in return they got jumped the next day; apparently Demetri's cousin was in a gang, but that's another story for another time.

Back to Ford's paranoia, this became even more apparent when dating Hephzie. Some people didn't take their relationship seriously; not because of race, but because some people couldn't believe that Six-Fingers actually got a girlfriend. One day, as Spring Break drew closer, Ford met with Stan in the hall for lunch. Hephzie was usually with Stan during this time of the day (they had Language Arts together), but she had gone to use the restroom. She soon emerged and started towards her friends, but a tall guy with mixed-skin and a small afro caught up to Hephzie before the twins could and tapped her shoulder.

"Oh, hey, Spencer." Hephzie said casually.

"Hey, Hephzie," Spencer said as he readjusted his hold on his flute-case. "So, listen, you wanna go out this weekend?"

"Course not, I'm goin' out with Ford." Hephzie said firmly, sounding slightly offended.

Stan patted Ford's back at hearing that, but for some odd reason Ford didn't feel better. He stood up straighter at having his girlfriend display her amazing loyalty, but the sickening feeling in his stomach didn't help matters.

"Oh." Spencer said with a shrug and played off the rejection well. "Cool, cool, I thought those were just rumors or somethin'."

Hephzie held her head up high proudly. "Nope. See ya in Music!" She turned around as Spencer walked off for lunch, and she smiled at seeing Stan and Ford. "Hey guys. Ready?" Hephzie gently held one of Ford's arms before they walked off for the cafeteria.

"Is Spencer bothering you?" Ford checked.

"What are you gonna do, Poindexter," Stan laughed. "Bored him to death if he messes with your girl?"

Ford scowled at his twin, but Hephzie spoke first. "Don't worry 'bout it, Fordsie, he's just a classmate. No big deal."

"Well, not to you, sure." Ford agreed in a less-than-happy tone. "Because you always seem to be the one getting asked out, and why? Because… well, because you're talented and smart and beautiful. And because no one can believe that someone as amazing as you would want to date the six-fingered freak, not even me."

Hephzie stopped walking, forcing Ford to do the same, and looked at him very carefully. Ford swallowed and suddenly regretted venting his insecurities and frustrations.

"Stan, go grab some seats." Hephzie said and pulled Ford to a wall so they weren't blocking the flow of students eager for lunch. Hephzie's voice was so firm and stern that Stan didn't hesitate to obey and left the two alone. "First off, I love your extra fingers." She said softly and held his hand so each of her five fingers were between Ford's six fingers. "Second off, I'm flattered that ya think so highly of me, but give a guy credit when it's due. Most guys who like me only like me for my looks, but ya love me for who I am."

"Of course I do." Ford agreed quickly so Hephzie wouldn't think for a second that he didn't. "But that's easy for you to say; you don't have a nose that takes up half your face and uncontrollable hair."

"Why do ya think I keep my hair in dreadlocks?" Hephzie asked to try to lighten the mood, gesturing to the dreadlocks that were tied up into a long ponytail that almost touched the base of her back.

That little comment did make Ford smile, but only a little bit. "Look, all I'm saying is that there is a reason you're always so confident and why being asked out doesn't bother you. If I looked in the mirror and saw what you see when you look in the mirror I'd feel confident myself, but I don't."

"Oh, so you think what give me my confidence is my looks, not the fact that someone pretty special loves me?" Hephzie challenged with a sly smile.

"I didn't say that." Ford said, shaking his hands to try to redo his statement more accurately. "I…"

"Well, would ya love me any less if I didn't see this when I looked in the mirror?" Hephzie asked, gesturing to her face and hair.

Ford blinked in astonishment that she would ask such a question. "Of course I wouldn't."

"Are ya sure?" Hephzie asked calmly, her smile still the same. "Ya don't sound sure."

It was true that Ford's voice was trembling, but not out of uncertainty of his own words, but of where his girlfriend was going with this conversation. Before he could answer, Hephzie walked into the classroom they stood by and later appeared with a borrowed pair of scissors. Hephzie dropped her purse and backpack on the floor, and then, before Ford could stop her, she untied her ponytail and cut a dreadlock so instead of going down her back it only went to her breast.

"Well?" Hephzie asked when she saw the beyond-shocked look on Ford's face. "Do ya love me any less?" Hephzie grabbed another dreadlock and cut it in half. "How 'bout now?" She cut another dreadlock. "Or now?"

"No, no!" Ford yelled, his shock finally shaken off enough to speak his mind. "No, of course I don't love you any less! I'd love you no matter what you looked like!"

Hephzie finished cutting her fourth dreadlock and threw the loose hair in a nearby trashcan. "So why on Earth would I love ya any less cuz of your looks? Besides, I love how ya look! So I hope ya learned that what ya see as flaws, I see as perfections."

Ford couldn't help but smile. How could he not? Hephzie was a genius in her own regard. She didn't do as well academically as her boyfriend, but she knew that there was no way she would drive the lesson home unless there was an element of shock, so she was willing to cut her hair to teach Ford that she thought he was handsome and that she wanted no other guy in the world but him.

"Thank you, Hephzibah. I love you."

"I love ya, too." Hephzie kissed Ford on his lips and then said, "Now, I've gotta return these," as she waved the pair of scissors in her clutch.

Later, when Hephzie and Ford sat down for lunch, Stan noticed four of Hephie's dreadlocks had been cut in half. He couldn't help but stare and asked, "Uh… did someone cut your hair?"

"I did," Hephzie said proudly as she flicked her ponytail, the shorter dreadlocks more apparent now. "To show Ford that changes in appearances are irrelevant to one's love for someone."

Stan rolled his eyes and bit into his ham sandwich. "Guess love does make you do crazy things."

"But, wait," Ford said as he pulled out an apple. "Prom's next weekend; are you not worried about your hair, Hephzibah?"

"Nope." She said calmly as she sipped on a bottle of water. "I was goin' to the hair salon this weekend, anyways. I needed to re-tie my dreadlocks. I'll just tell 'em to add extensions to these four dreadlocks to even thangs out." Hephzie held her shorter dreadlocks and pondered. "Or maybe I'll have 'em cut the rest this short. What do y'all think?"

Before, her dreadlocks went down to the base of her back, about as long as her grandmother's dreadlocks had been before her stroke. Now, the four dreadlocks cut short went only halfway down her back, so when they were tied up in her high-ponytail they only went down to her shoulder-blades.

Ford seriously considered her hair being shorter, and eventually said, "I think it looks fine long, but it would look nice shorter, too."

"I kinda like it shorter." Stan admitted.

"My neck already feels better from losing the extra weight." Hephzie joked and pulled out a package of crackers. "Alright, I'll just tell 'em to cut it so it's even."


	13. Science Fair

**_April 5th, 1972_**

For most people, Spring Break was a chance to relax and take it easy, but not for Ford, who was working like crazy on his science fair project now that prom was out of the way. He had always loved the New Jersey Science Fair, ever since his first one in the fifth grade. Back then it had been nothing but a model volcano, but everybody's got to start somewhere. The way it worked was that up until high-school, the science fair was voluntary, but then most teachers in high-school required a science fair project to be turned in for a grade.

Hephzie wasn't as invested into science as Ford was, but she still had fun. Her favorite projects were what she called Biomes in a Box, a small model of an environment and it's living creatures, all carefully painted and sculpted with clay. This year, she decided to do something a little bit different; since she was volunteering at the nursery in the hospital, she did a project on whose music soothed newborns more effectively: Mozart or Beethoven. Stan's projects were always very basic and quickly put together, usually not even started until the night before. This year would be no different. Ford went all out, deciding to go out with a bang, since there was a good chance that this would be his last science fair. He challenged himself with an actual invention and built his very own perpetual motion machine.

Nearly all of Spring Break was spent on the project, while Stan had slept in and made sure to have a good time with his new freedom. Ford had wondered in the back of his head if Hephzie would be mad at him for working on the project so much, but she had always understood his excitement for creating something new and his thirst for discovery. If anything, Hephzie encouraged him in his work, bringing over a pizza or reading a book and sitting with Ford while he worked on his perpetual motion machine, but she was like Stan in the sense that they both knew how to put their foot down and get the hyperactive teenager to sleep. That itself was a miracle from the heavens above.

Finally, Tuesday came around and so did the Science Fair. Almost as tradition, Ford earned first place and blew the competition away (last year he nearly blew the competition away in a literal sense). Hephzie and Stan were both very proud of him, and once again, in the midst of the hardships, Ford felt like he was on top of the world.

The next day, not even five minutes into Physics class, a monotone voice rang through the whole school.

 _"_ _Pines twins to the principal's office, Pines twins to the principal's office."_

Ford stopped his note-taking and Hephzie shook her head with a smile before sipping her water.

Stan munched on his last toffee peanut, his legs propped up on his desk, and groaned, "Ah, great. What is it this time?"

Ford shrugged and stood up. He was far too used to being called to the principal's office, usually to be an alibi or an eyewitness for his brother. Hephzie picked up her pencil to give Mrs. Patt her full attention, who had not stopped lecturing, and the young woman with dreadlocks mouthed, "Good luck."

The twins left the classroom and walked down the big hall, passing the main entrance, and up to the office. Stan was ready to enter first, but the secretary stopped them by pointing to him and saying, "Not you, him," and she pointed her gray nail-filer at the smartest of the two.

They both paused for a moment due to shock, but Stan casually sat on the bench and waved his hand, signaling for Ford to go on ahead. His eyes barely followed his brother as he entered the office, and Stan looked ahead at the trophy shelf the school had, full of football awards, but his ears were focused on what was happening inside the office.

"Now, Mr. Pines, I'd like ta speak with you very frankly, if I may." Stan heard a thick New Jersey accent say, recognizing it at once as their balding principal.

"Very frankly is the only way I speak." Pa growled. So the principal called Pa? Ford must have fucked up real good for the principal to call their father. Stan felt a mixture of excitement to learn what Ford did, but also fear of what his brother may soon face.

"You have two sons: one of 'em is incredibly gifted, the other one is standin' outside of this room and his name's Stanley."

Stan sat up straighter at hearing his name and he rolled his eyes at the principal's jab at him. He wasn't the first and would not be the last.

"What are ya sayin'?" Ma was there, too? Stan darted his eyes to the secretary, too focused on her nails to care what Stan did, so he slid off the bench and stood at the door to listen closer.

"I'm sayin' your son Stanford is a genius!" The principal said excitedly. "All o' his teachers are goin' bananas over his science fair experiment! You ever heard of West Coast Tech? Best college in the country, their graduates turn science-fiction into science-fact! The admissions team is visitin' tomorrow ta check out Stanford's experiment! Your son may be a future millionaire, Mr. Pines."

"I'm impressed." Pa said calmly.

Stan pressed his ear against the door. Did Pa really just say that he was impressed?! Pa never said he was impressed with anything!

"But what about our little free spirit, Stanley?" Ma asked, concerned for her son, as proud as she might be of her other son.

"That clown?" The principal sneered, making Stan's blood run cold. "At this rate, he'll be lucky ta graduate high-school. Look, there's a saltwater taffy store on the dock, and somebody's gotta get paid ta scrape the barnacles off o' it." Stan turned away from the door, leaning against it for support, but that didn't keep him from sliding down it and sitting on the floor, hugging his knees. "Stanford's goin' places, but hey, look on the bright side. At least you'll have one son here in New Jersey forever."

Stan was deaf to the rest of the conversation. A million things were going through his mind at once. He knew Ford was a genius, why was this news to everybody else? For as long as Stan could remember, Ford had always had a high IQ and had been book-smart. He knew the project Ford did was impressive. He knew he wasn't as impressive as Ford, but… still. It still hurt. It still hurt that Stan didn't seem to have much potential outside of scraping barnacles. It still hurt that people preferred his twin over him. It still hurt that, while Ford had the world in the palm of his hand, the only person Stan had to count on was soon going to be gone.

No! No, Ford wouldn't do that. Ford wouldn't leave him in the dust. They were a team! They were family! Wherever they went, they went together! Stan stood up before he was caught sitting by the door and resumed his seat on the bench. This whole thing was stupid and would bypass without another thought. Ford didn't want to go to some stupid college. He wanted to sail the world with his brother, uncovering mysteries, digging up gold, meeting babes, and seeing the world with Stan. Ford had always wanted that. Okay, maybe the babes thing was out the window now that he had a girlfriend, but the rest was still optional!

The door opened and Stan stood to greet whoever left the room. Ford held a pamphlet in his polydactyl hands and gave his twin a lopsided smile, one full of sympathy and hidden excitement.

Stan gave him a big grin. "Glad to see ya made it out alive, Poindexter."

Ford chuckled and rubbed his neck with a free hand, his other holding the promotion for the college by his side. "Yeah."

Their parents left the office and Stan gave them a smile. "Hey, Ma! Hey, Pa!"

"Hello, Stanley." Ma said softly and patted his cheek. "Did you have a good day?"

"Meh." Stan replied with a shrug. "Can't complain."

The bell rang above them and Pa pulled out his keys from his suit.

"Well, we gotta go pick up your nephew." Ma said. "We'll be watchin' him tonight."

"Awesome!" Stan said and punched the air. "I've been meaning to teach the little squirt how to give a good ole left-hook!"

Ma chuckled at her son and followed her husband down the hall. They were almost at the entrance when they spotted Hephzibah walking towards them, two extra backpacks in her arms that belonged to the Pines twins.

"Good afternoon, Mr. n' Mrs. Pines." Hephzie said politely.

"Well, hello there, Hephzibah," Ma said with a smile. "How was your day?"

"It was fine, thanks. Yours?"

"It's been good, thank you." Ma said. Pa held the door open for his wife and she added quickly, "Well, we better get goin'. You take care of yourself, alright?"

"Yes, ma'am." Hephzie said and readjusted her hold on a heavy backpack to wave the parents goodbye.

Hephzie walked up to the twins, who were walking at their own pace towards her, their heads down. When they saw her, they grew smiles and Hephzie returned the happy look. "What happened to y'all?" She asked as she handed each teenager a backpack.

Stan slipped his on and gestured for his brother to tell the news. Ford showed Hephzie the pamphlet and said sheepishly, "I may just be a future millionaire."

The ride back home was spent catching Hephzie up on the news about the admissions team from West Coast Tech, one of the best colleges in the whole world, located all the way in California. Stan was stone-faced and extremely focused on driving, while Ford sat in the backseat with his girlfriend to fill her in.

"That's amazing, Fordsie!" Hephzie cheered. "I mean… wow! West Coast Tech! I'm so proud of ya! Even if ya don't get accepted, which ya will, the fact that they're even gonna look at your work says a lot!"

"I know!" Ford said, blushing from the flattery. "Thank you, Hephzibah. Maybe you should apply. I'm sure they'd give you a shot."

Hephzie laughed and shook her head. "I've looked at West Coast. Their medical field is more focused on discovery. I just wanna learn n' help people. Besides, they'd never take me."

Ford's smile dropped. "Why not?"

"I miss the GPA mark by two points."

"Oh."

"Don't worry 'bout it." Hephzie said and kept on smiling. "When are they gonna look at your project?"

"Tomorrow after school."

"Well, hey, I've got the day off. Why don't I treat ya to some shakes after you're done with the admissions team? That way, win or lose, ya got some ice-cream to look forward to."

"And a date with you, my dear." Ford said, wiggling his eyebrows.

Hephzie blushed and looked out the window. "Well, yeah, I guess so…"

Stan pretended to throw up out the car window, making Hephzie laugh and Ford roll his eyes with a smile.

* * *

While the sun trickled downward, hiding behind the sea, the twins sat on their beloved childhood swings. They were rusted and old, but still provided a comfortable place to sit, talk, relax, and occasionally swing. It seemed like only yesterday they selfishly kept the swings to themselves, and then purposely worked on the Stan O' War close to the swing-set since the beginning, but then, at age ten, the twins finally trusted Hephzie with their secret plan to fix up the old boat and sail around the world. It was on that sunny day that Hephzie promised to not get in their way, a promise only a ten-year-old would make, and the day they took turns pushing the little girl on the swings as thanks.

Now, they sat alone, two completely different people than what they were as children. Back then, things were simpler. Their goals were similar. Their dreams were shared. But things change. Still… that didn't mean that everything changes, right? Some things never change… right?

"Heh, jokes on them if they think you wanna go to some stuffy college on the other side of the country." Stan laughed to break the ice. "Once we get the Stan O' War complete, it's gonna be beaches, babes, and international treasure hunting for us!" The younger twin excitingly retold to get the older twin's blood pumping.

Ford reread the pamphlet and sighed. "Look, Stan, I can't pass up a chance like this. This school as cutting-edge programs and multidimensional paradigm theory."

Stan replaced the disappointed scowl with a weak imitation of a robot. "Be-boop. I am a nerd robot. That's you. That's what you sound like."

Ford chuckled and looked out towards the sea that he and his family called "home". He couldn't argue with facts. "Ah, well." He paused, looked down at his six-fingered fist, then said, "If the college board isn't impressed with my experiment tomorrow, then… okay, I'll do the treasure hunting thing."

"And if they are?"

"Well, then I guess you better come visit me on the other side of the country." Ford teased, punching his brother on the shoulder. Trusting that nothing else needed to be said, Ford got up and headed for home, leaving his brother to sit and think about their future as the sun disappeared and the sky got darker.

* * *

Ford didn't get much sleep that night. Neither did Stan. Ford was too excited. Stan was too worried.

* * *

Stan drove off immediately after school for home to spend some time with his baby nephew. The night before he had detention, so he couldn't bond with Franklin, but now his night was free. Hephzie walked with Ford to the school's gym to support him. She glanced down at Ford's watch and saw that they had ten minute to kill until the people from West Coast arrived. They stopped at the double-doors, just by a water fountain, and Ford readjusted his tie.

"How do I look?"

"Very handsome." Hephzie said and kissed his cheek. "N' nervous." Ford rubbed his neck as Hephzie refilled her water bottle at the water fountain and handed it to her boyfriend. "Here, cool down. You're burnin' up."

Ford took it, thanked her, and gulped down some water. It did help his dry throat and racing heart and he nearly drank it all. He handed it back to Hephzie and said, "Thank you, Hephzibah. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Hephzie rolled her eyes. "You'd still be right where ya are now. Don't give me too much credit."

"True, perhaps, but I'm much happier with you than without." Ford admitted and blushed furiously.

"Okay, okay," Hephzie chuckled and readjusted his little bowtie and ran a hand through his hair. "Just take a deep breath n' show 'em what ya got, Brainiac!"

"You got it!" Ford said confidently and opened the gym door. "I'll meet you at The Juke Joint."

"I'll save ya a seat!" Hephzie replied with a wave goodbye, and Ford went behind the door.

He walked up to his project and found it covered by a sheet. Perfect! A dramatic reveal for his perpetual motion machine! Ford stood next to it, on it's right side, but then glanced over to the left side of the project. Next in the alphabet, after "Stanford", was "Stanley". Ford smiled at the ridiculous last-minute project Stan had thrown together to scrape up a D instead of an F. He remembered that Monday night. While he had spent all of it testing his machine and making sure it worked, Hephzie gave Stan a much-needed helping hand on his project, making a non-working Foot Bot that only had one function and that was to make toast. Ford still smiled at his brother's messy handwriting, his hand-drawn pictures and cut-outs of football stuff from magazines, and decided to stand with a part of his brother behind him, having his back.

Ford looked ahead at the other projects to give him something to do. The Ms, Ns, one O, and the Ps were by the back wall, but close to the doors were the As, Bs, Cs, and Ds. Ford craned his neck to see Hephzie's project tucked in between a model of the solar system and a fire-ant farm. Ford was proud of her work at the nursery and her science fair project. Hephzie often talked about her work with the newborns as much as Ford talked about science and his one studies. He had even assisted Hephzie by picking with Mozart songs and which Beethoven songs to play for the newchildren and suggesting books and articles that would help support Hephzie's claim.

With Hephzie's project in his sights and Stan's behind him, Ford's heart skipped a beat when the double doors of the gym opened to reveal two men and a woman in suits with clipboards. So the teenager readjusted his tie once more, took in and let go of a deep breath, and stood still with a smile.

"Alright, kid, show us whatcha got."

* * *

Hephzie wished she had a watch. She looked out the window of the diner and saw how much sunlight was still out. Being the beginning of April, it couldn't be… what, a little before five? How long would it take for Ford's experiment to get approved or not? Maybe the college board was talking with Ford about his possibilities, or interviewing him. Maybe he needed to take a walk and think. Maybe he was upset about not getting accepted. Maybe he was overwhelmed over being accepted. Unsure of what to think, Hephzie sighed and reread the menu she knew by heart to give her something to do.

A few minutes after anxiously waiting, the door opened and Hephzie looked up to find her boyfriend, but her heart dropped. She had never seen Ford look so angry in all the… how long have they known each other?... twelve years?... in all of the twelve years Hephzie had known him. His unruly hair was sticking up all over the place, like he had grabbed it and tried to yank out his hair. His eyes were wide with anger, his bags apparent. His tie was undone and hanging from around his neck. His scowl was actually a little scary, and Hephzie was surprised by how shaken up she was just like how angry he looked. She swallowed, trying to ignore her worries, and focus on helping Ford.

He slid into the booth, sitting next to Hephzie, and she asked cautiously, "So… I take it it didn't go well?"

Ford pounded the table with his fists, growling in his throat, and he grabbed his hair again, resting his head in his hands, his elbows on the table. He was oblivious to the fact that Hephzie was startled by his actions. "My perpetual motion machine!" He yelled. "It was broken!"

Hephzie blinked away her shock. "Broken? What, did a fuse blow or somethang?"

"That's what I first thought, too!" Ford yelled and reached into his pocket. "But it doesn't take a genius to know why my project was broken!"

Ford slammed his hand down on the table and then held his hands, all twelve fingers entangled and shaking with fury. Hephzie looked at what Ford had pulled out from his pocket. An empty bag of toffee peanuts, Stan's favorite snack. Toffee peanuts had become a gag-gift for Stan over the years, much like how every spring he and Hephzie gave Ford all the jelly beans they could get their hands on and the twins knew better than to eat Hephzie's oreos. It took Hephzie a minute to understand why Ford had pulled out an empty bag of toffee peanuts and what he was trying to say, but once Hephzie got the message, she shook her head and immediately said,

"No. No, Stan wouldn't do that."

Ford shot Hephzie a deadly look. "Wouldn't he?"

"No, he wouldn't." Hephzie said firmly and placed a hand on Ford's shoulder. "Look, ya know him better than anyone. Do ya really think Stan would do somethang like this?"

"He didn't want me to go." Ford muttered, more to himself than to Hephzie. "He wanted me to go treasure hunting with him. He didn't want me to go to college."

"But he… he wants ya to be happy, Fordsie." Hephzie said and move her hand off his shoulder to rub his back. "He's your brother. He wouldn't do this."

Ford looked at her again and turned his body to face her. "Hephzibah, he has never once done anything for anyone unless it directly benefits himself!"

"That's not true!" Hephzie snapped. "What 'bout when he got Shermie to come home? What 'bout all those times he kicked Crampelter's ass for ya? What 'bout when he called for help when I got hurt?"

"You're taking his side?!" Ford demanded, enraged and hurt.

Hephzie scowled. "I'm not taking anyone's side! Have I ever picked sides anytime ya idiots fought?"

Ford crossed his arms over his chest. "The fact remains that he broke my project! Nothing changes that!"

"Ya don't know that!" Hephzie retaliated and rubbed a temple. "Why don't ya just talk to him? Go ask him. I'm sure he'll talk to ya."

"All he ever does is lie, Hephzie!" Ford said and stood up. "What makes you think he won't lie to me about this?!"

"Stanford…"

"I'm going for a walk." Ford growled and headed for the door. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Stanford! Stanford Pines!"

But Ford was gone, leaving Hephzie alone in the diner.

* * *

Grandpa rocked in his rocking chair as he tuned and picked at his beloved viola, Helen. She had been a gift from Grandma, a wedding present. Throughout the years, Helen had sung babies to sleep, soothed the restless, and made the still dance. Grandpa used his bow to make the strings sing, and he began to play a slow song to match the cool night. The sun had just set and Grandpa had the window open, the still air slowly creeping into the flat. He took in a deep breath as he played his music. He paused his playing when he heard the door open. He looked to his right to find that the door had been opened by his granddaughter's hand. She closed it behind her, her head low and her shoulders slumped.

"Hephzibah," He said calmly to grasp her attention. "You're home earlier than usual."

Hephzie shrugged. It was true; usually she was either at work or out with the twins during this time.

Grandpa studied her frown and sat the instrument down on his lap to give his granddaughter his full attention. "Is somethang wrong, Half-Pint?"

Hephzie sighed and walked up to him. "Yes, Grandpa."

"Sit, sweetheart."

Hephzie did as she was told and sat her backpack and purse down by her feet. She rested in the second rocking chair and slowly began to rock herself.

"What happened?" Grandpa asked softly, his voice so comforting and warm.

"It's Stan n' Ford, Grandpa." Hephzie answered. "Ya remember me tellin' ya how Ford's project was bein' looked at by some people from West Coast Tech?" Grandpa nodded; he remembered Hephzie telling him excitedly about the young man's opportunity shortly before she went to work. "Well… he didn't… his project was broken. N' he think Stan did it."

"He thinks Stanley broke his project?" Grandpa repeated to make sure he understood correctly. "Why?"

"They had always wanted to go sailin' around the world n' hunt for gold." Hephzie recalled, looking out the window as she rocked in her chair. "I don't think Ford's wanted to do that for awhile now, but Stan… he still wants to go, but not without Ford, but…" She stopped.

"But what, Half-Pint?" Grandpa pressed gently.

"But I don't think Stan would do that. I know he's Ford's twin, but he's my best friend. I know Stan, n' he'd never do that."

"Of course he wouldn't. He's a good kid. Sure, he's had his fair share of trouble, but he's got a good heart n' he'd never hurt his own brother like that."

"Ford doesn't believe that, Grandpa." Hephzie added and sighed. "He doesn't believe me."

"I'm sorry, Half-Pint." Grandpa said earnestly. "I'm sure Stanford's just hurtin' right now. Even if Stanley didn't break Stanford's project, the machine's still broken n' the boy's chances of gettin' into that college are gone. He might just be lookin' for someone to blame, n' sadly he chose Stanley."

Hephzie gave Grandpa's words some thought. "Maybe." She admitted. "Still… I just don't know what to do."

"I don't think there's anythang ya can do, but be there for 'em." Grandpa sighed and took one of Hephzibah's hands and rubbed it tenderly. "Ya've always been there for 'em, n' I know that won't change."

"No, never."

"But ya gotta know when to let people fall so they can grow." Grandpa advised. "It'll hurt - Lord knows it'll hurt real bad - but in the end y'all walk away stronger n' better than before, if ya chose to."

Hephzie nodded and squeezed her grandfather's hand. "Thanks, Grandpa."

The old pianist smiled and let go of the teenager with dreadlocks. Grandpa tucked Helen in the case, stood up, and said, "Why don't we start on dinner? Grandma's asleep, but by the time she wakes up we'll have a nice warm soup on our hands."

* * *

Ford couldn't stall his arrival back home any further. He wasn't shaking with fury anymore, and he did regret taking his anger out on Hephzie, but he was still mad beyond belief, the candy wrapper clenched in his fist and his face set on an ugly scowl that didn't suit him. He walked down the familiar street that he could travel down blindfolded and entered his childhood home. He climbed up the stairwell, opened the door, and could hear his brother sitting and watching TV.

"... whatta fox." Stan was sitting upside down as he played with a paddle-ball to give his hand something to do, a small smile on his face like nothing in the world was wrong. He sat upright and paused his little game when Ford blocked his view of the TV. "Hey, what's the word, Sixer?" He asked, his voice optimistic.

It was enough to make Ford puke, but he controlled his temper and managed to just ask a straight-forward question in a raised tone. "Can you explain what this was doing next to my broken project?!" And Ford held up his proof that his brother had been at the scene of the crime.

Stan stood up and his smile was gone, replaced with a guilty frown. "Okay, I may have accidentally been… horsing around…"

"This was no accident, Stan!" The elder twin interrupted, pointing a finger at his opponent. "You did this! You did this because you couldn't handle me going to college on my own!"

"Look, it was a mistake!" Stan said, a hint of plea in his voice that his brother would believe him. Ford didn't actually buy that Stan would break that dumb machine on purpose, right? "Although, if you think about it," He added to try to lighten the mood and make Ford feel better by reminding him that it's not all over. "Maybe there's a silver lining. Hu? Treasure hunting?" He reminded Ford with a cheesy smile and a shrug.

Ford was flabbergasted. Well, nearly flabbergasted. He held his head and yelled, "Are you kidding me?! Why would I wanna do anything with the person who sabatoshed my entire future?!" His temper reaching its peak, Ford shoved Stan back on the couch, releasing some anger on the person who deserved it.

Stan sat up, ready to retaliate, but Pa had heard the whole thing and now held his youngest son by the collar of his white t-shirt so they were face-to-face, dangerously close. "You did what, you knucklehead?!"

Ma's concern bubbled to the surface when the commotion woke up her grandson, so she went down the hall to investigate with a robe on and Franklin crying in her arms. "Stanley? What's goin' on in 'ere?"

"No, wait! I can explain! It was a mistake!"


	14. Scavenging

Grandpa poured two mugs of coffee and his granddaughter thanked him before sweetening her cup of joe and sipping it slowly. The old pianist smiled and sat the pot down, sitting at the table to enjoy his oatmeal and coffee. He checked the clock on the stove and saw that it was only 6:53 in the morning. Hephzie still had plenty of time to get to school. Usually about fifteen minutes after seven, Stan would honk his horn, signalling Hephzie to come outside, and then she would kiss her grandparents goodbye and race out the door to be on time, but this morning was different.

There was a familiar knock on the door which both Hephzie and Grandpa looked up in surprise, but not dislike. "C'min, Stanford." He called, recognizing the teenager's knock.

Ford opened the door, huge bags under his eyes and a frown on his face, like he had been through Hell and back before getting to the flat above Pianos For People.

"G'mornin', Stanford," Grandpa said politely. "Care for some breakfast?"

"No, thank you, Grandpa Cece." Ford said in a low voice. "I'm just here to take Hephzibah to school."

"Well," Grandpa said and stood up to get another mug. "At least have some coffee. Ya look like ya could use the pick-me-up."

Ford gave a defeated sigh and sat next to Hephzie, setting his backpack by his feet. "Thank you, sir. I would appreciate it."

Hephzie kissed his cheek "good morning" and ruffled his hair playfully to try to bring a smile to his face, but her attempts were futile. "Where's Stan?" She asked. "Did he oversleep again?"

Ford shrugged, his head low and his hands holding his arms, his limbs on the table and overlapping. "I wouldn't know. He's not home."

Grandpa sat the mug of coffee in front of the white teenager and sat down on Hephzie's other side. "What do ya mean, son? Is everythang okay?"

Ford picked up the coffee-cup slowly, enjoyed the smell and steam the drink gave, took a small sip of the bitter drink, and lowered the mug before answering. "Pa kicked him out."

"He did WHAT?!" Hephzie boomed and stood up, having far too much energy for someone who just woke up. Now it was Ford's turn to be shocked by someone's anger. "I'll be back."

"Where are ya goin', Half-Pint?" Grandpa asked as Hephzie marched to the door and opened it, letting in the cool morning air.

"To kick Fil's ass!"

"Hephzibah!" Grandpa gasped in a scolding tone, both for her choice of language and action to take.

"I mean it, Grandpa!"

"Alicia-Sarah Hephzibah Fisher Cece, ya close that door n' sit down right now." Grandpa said in a harsh tone that was rarely heard. Even Ford knew better than to disobey.

Hephzie huffed, slammed the door closed to vex out some anger, and resumed her seat between the two males at the table.

"It ain't your place to kick Mr. Pines where the sun don't shine," Grandpa said calmly, making Ford smile into his mug of coffee. "But it is your place to be there for someone who needs ya, now more than ever."

Hephzie nodded with a serious look on her face, her first thought being to kick Pa's ass, but her second was to find Stan and make sure he was okay. "I understand. May I go out n' find him?"

"Of course ya may." Grandpa said and gestured to the little table by the door where they kept the keys and coupons in the drawer. "Ya can also take the truck. I don't have any deliveries to make today, but I'd feel better if y'all were home by dinnertime."

"Thank ya, Grandpa."

"Wait, what are you doing?" Ford asked as Hephzie started to gulp down her coffee.

"To bring Stan home, Fordsie." Hephzie said as if that was the most obvious thing in the world. "Look, I know your still mad at him n' I know ya probably don't wanna see him right now, but he's still my best friend n' I wanna make sure he's okay. Ya go on to school without me n' I'll call ya if I find him."

"No, I'm going with you." Ford said firmly, sipping his coffee with an attitude of determination.

"Whatever floats your boat."

It didn't take long for the two teenagers to leave the piano store and drive down the street in the rusted-blue pick-up truck. Hephzie drove while Ford kept his eyes peeled for the red Diablo.

While Hephzie drove, she asked her boyfriend, "Why the hell would Mr. Pines kick Stan out?"

Ford sighed and rubbed his forehead. "Pa learned that Stanley sabatoshed my chances to get into West Coast Tech, and so he kicked him out."

"Seriously?"

"Pa said that Stan wasn't welcomed back home until he made a fortune, seeing how he ruined my chances of ever doing so." Ford went on bitterly.

Hephzie sword violently under her breath. Ford got a chance to look at her and see just how angry she really was. She was usually pretty good about keeping her temper under control (unlike Stan), but some subjects, Ford had noticed over the years, set Hephzie off like a lit match too close to a stack of fireworks. She bit her lip and tightened her grip on the steering wheel. "So, did ya ever talk to him 'bout it?" Hephzie asked, struggling to keep her voice calm, trying hard not to yell at someone who didn't deserve it.

"He claims it was an accident, but…"

"But ya believed him, right?" Hephzie interrupted.

Ford paid a lot of attention to a red truck outside of a donut store.

"Stanford!" Hephzie yelled in an exasperated tone.

"Don't scold me like a child, Hephzibah," Ford snapped. "Besides, it doesn't matter if it was an accident or not. Stan still broke my project! And I'll bet my life on the fact that he's not even sorry!"

"Well, prepare to lie in a grave, Dumb-Dumb!" Hephzie retaliated. "Cuz we're gonna find him, y'all are gonna talk this whole thang out, n' then we're gonna bring him home!"

Ford shook his head at Hephzie's stubbornness and knew that it was best to just let her take control of the situation. He rolled down his window and rested an elbow on the door, holding his head up by his cheek. "Fine." He growled.

Hephzie had to stop at a red light, giving her a chance to look at her boyfriend and sighed. "Look, honey, don't think I'm not mad at Stan, cuz I am. He should've been more careful - n' yes, if he says it was an accident, I believe him - n' I've got a bone to pick with him for not comin' to my place when he was kicked out! I mean, where did he sleep last night?! In the Stanmobile?! Hell no! Not on my watch!"

"I'm sure he's fine, Hephzie," Ford said calmly as she drove on when the light turned green. "And I doubt it'd look very manly for him to simply go next door after being kicked out." He added with a tiny smile, hoping it would make Hephzie relax.

She rolled her eyes and said, "Regardless, once we find his sorry ass, he's comin' home with me!"

"I'm sure Pa will let him come back home once Stanley apologizes and Pa's had a chance to cool down."

Hephzie risked hitting the car in front of them to raise an eyebrow at Ford to give him an unconvincing look. Ford looked at her as she averted her eyes back on the road. He thought about the whole thing and was the confident that it would soon blow over. Yes, he was mad at Stan, and yes, he would never go sailing with him in a million years now, but that didn't mean Ford wanted his own twin to be disowned. The more Ford thought about it, the more he favored a talk with Stan. If he would admit that what he did was wrong and apologize, then Ford would forgive him, but what Stan said rang in Ford's head. "Fine! I can make it on my own! I don't need you! I don't need anyone!" Ford blinked away his concerns and reminded himself that Pines men have a bad habit of saying stupid shit when their angry or hurt.

"Let's try Shermie's place first." Ford advised the driver.

Hephzie nodded, agreeing that the eldest Pines brother was most likely Stan's location. She drove with one hand and set her right down on Ford's leg, palm up, offering for him to grab it. Ford took it and held it a little tighter than normal. Hephzie smiled at the road in front of her and only rubbed the six-fingered hand back.

In Shermie's apartment in New York City, no one was home. By then, it was lunchtime, so after a quick bite to eat, Hephzie and Ford headed for the bank Shermie worked at. Sure enough, he had just returned from his break, and was surprised to find his younger brother and his girlfriend waiting in the lobby.

"Stanford," Shermie said as the two teenagers stood up. "Hephzibah, what are you two doing here?"

"We're looking for Stanley." Ford answered.

"Have ya not seen him?" Hephzie asked, catching the surprise on Shermie's face and in his voice.

"No, why? What's going on?"

Ford sighed. He was getting tired of breaking the news to people. "Pa kicked Stan out. We thought he might have come to you."

Shermie's jaw hung loosely. "Pa kicked Stan out?" He repeated. "No, I… last I heard from Ma when she and Pa picked up Franklin was that you had some sort of college interested in your work…"

"West Coast Tech."

"Right. How'd that go?"

Ford looked away and muttered, "Less than ideal."

"Mr. Pines is convinced that Stan's the reason why Ford didn't get accepted into the college, cuz the project was broken." Hephzie explained, taking over the conversation.

"Because Stanley broke it." Ford corrected with a growl.

"Fine!" Hephzie said and threw her hands in the air, clearly tired of fighting this battle and willing to accept defeat. She turned her attention back to Shermie. "Mr. Pines blames Stan for ruining Ford's chances to get into West Coast n' now we can't find Stan! Any chance ya missed a call or anythang?"

"Daisy was home last night resting from work." Shermie explained. "She left this morning to pick up Alex, just about the same time I did for work. Unless Stan tried to come between then and now…"

"Gotcha." Hephzie said as Shermie trailed off. "Well, we'd better keep looking. He might still be in New Jersey."

The rest of the day was spent in the truck, looking for the Stanmobile. At one point Ford did the driving so Hephzie could rest, and too soon the sun began to sink, changing the sky from baby blue to a mixture of orange, pink, and red. They stopped by The Juke Joint and asked the employees if anyone had seen him, they checked his favorite gym to see if maybe he had blown off some steam, they even looked for his footprints on the beach by the swings and the Stan O' War, but they found nothing.

On the beach, Ford looked at the boat he and his brother had been building for close to ten years, ever since they were eight-years-old and found it buried in that cave. He ran a hand over the smooth wood, once littered with splinters, but it had been well cared for and polished until it was as smooth as silk. It already hurt to even look at the sailboat. Ford turned to find Hephzie sitting on the swing, watching the ocean. Her eyes were misty, but not with tears, rather with thoughts. Ford sighed, knowing that her brain was going a mile-a-minute as well. He slowly walked to the old swings and sat in Stan's usual spot since his girlfriend had taken the other swing.

"Right," Hephzie sighed and began to share her thoughts with the polydactyl teenager. "We could try Carla's place, or maybe the docks, or… I dunno." She sighed and rested her elbows on her knees, bending forward and keeping her eyes on the waves that slowly crashed onto the shore, pushing and pulling the glass-littered sand. "What do ya think?"

Ford sighed and swung a little bit, his feet barely leaving it's spot on the sand. "I don't know. I doubt he would go to his ex's house right after getting kicked out."

"Well, he's your brother, Ford." Hephzie said, her voice slightly agitated, but mostly stuck with a pleading tone. "Where do ya think he'd go? What would he do?"

Ford gave it some serious thought. It he had to guess, he would've said that Stan would first off get as far away from Glass Shard Beach as possible. Just go out on a drive, try to clear his head, until he would turn around to something familiar. Ford might have guessed that Stan would take the Stan O' War and go on his mission without Ford, but the boat was still here. So maybe Stan was still in town? He might be, or in a neighboring town, planning to come home in a few days so things could cool down. Ford was confident that by Monday Stan would be driving himself and Hephzibah to school like any other day. Today was just a really bad day.

"Ford?"

"I think we should return the truck to your grandfather."

"WHAT?!" Hephzie yelled and stood up, too full of energy to sit down. "Are ya kiddin' me?! You're seriously givin' up?!"

"Of course not!" Ford said indignantly. "I'm saying that we should be patient and give Stanley time to come to his senses and return home."

"Stanford," Hephzie sighed and collapsed back into the swing, and then began to slowly push herself to ease her worries. "Your dad kicked him out! I don't think Stan's ever comin' back, not unless someone makes him."

"He's only seventeen and hasn't even graduated high-school yet. Pa knows his chances of earning millions is less than none. He wouldn't kick Stanley out just for breaking my project."

"But ya know how stubborn Stan is! Even if your Pa didn't mean what he said, which I'm not sure he didn't," Hephzie quickly muttered under her breath. "Stan's gonna wanna prove a point to him."

"I'll make millions and you'll rue the day you turned your back one me!" Ford was too concerned about who those words were targeted for to begin to debate if Stan meant what he said at all. "Still, we promised your grandfather you would be home by dinner." Ford looked out at the setting sun.

Hephzie sighed heavily and didn't make any efforts to get up from her swing. Neither did Ford. They sat for a silent moment or two, watching the sea. Ford was too distracted by his thoughts to notice a crack before it was too late. The swing underneath him gave way when the seat snapped in half, sending the male teenager to the sand and blinking away his shock of having hsi seat swept up from underneath him. The look on his face was enough to make Hephzie chuckle into her hand. Ford looked at the old swing in confusion. Stan used that swing all the time and never had a problem with it, and Ford was lighter than his twin. Still, maybe the swing was finally too old and Ford had been the straw that broke the camel's back.

He eventually was pulled away from his mind at hearing the female teenager giggle into her palm. He smiled and stood up, dusting the sand from his jeans, and got behind Hephzie. Bracing herself for payback, she was pleasantly surprised when Ford pulled the swing back and then pushed Hephzie forward, like when they were children. Hephzie's giggled increased into a light laughter that swam through the beach. It made Ford smile and forget his worries for a moment as he watched his girlfriend laugh as she flew up towards the beautiful sunset. He kept pushing her, and soon her laughter made Ford laugh. Not a rib-cracking, chest-aching, short-of-breath laugh, but a soft one that warmed his insides.

* * *

 **April 10th, 1972**

It was Monday, so the beach was less crowded than what it had been during the weekend. Empty of teenagers and young adults spending their Spring Break or taking a break from studying to go have a weekend out on the beach. If Stan couldn't find any gold, maybe he'd find a small treasure to pawn off for some cash to hold him off for awhile, like a watch or a necklace or something.

Stan slipped on the headphones and got to work. He had a little bit of money when he first left home, and he used a good chunk of it to buy a metal-detector to make treasure hunting easier. He knew his entire life that gold was a rare metal and hard to find, that it took time and patience, but Stan didn't have time and patience right now. In fact, after only being out on his own for a weekend, he hardly had two dollars to rub together. He needed cash and he needed it now.

His stupid head kept on making him think of alternate solutions to make a quick buck, each one less ideal than the last. Stan could get a job in this bigger New Jersey city, a good distance from home, and treasure hunt part-time, but no one would hire a high-school dropout, and if they did the job wouldn't pay well. He could go home, but that would mean crawling back to Pa with his tail between his legs. Pa would never let Stan come home unless he had a fortune under his belt. Stan thought about going to Hephzie's place, but Pa would surely see the red Diablo across the street, and… who cares, anyway?! That old place wasn't home and never was! Why else would he have always been in such of a hurry to get the hell out of town? Stan could get why Ford was eager to leave, too, Shermie certainly had been, but Ford had been willing to leave his own twin in the dust… no! Stop! Focus on finding gold!

It was afternoon now and Stan was getting hot, walking along the burning sand barefoot with a metal-detector in his hand. This was too slow going! He needed something quicker! Something that would make him rich! Something that'll really show his family who's boss! Stan's eye caught a giant billboard and he read it with a growing smile.

" Travelling salesman! Be your own boss!"

* * *

Mondays always fucking suck, that's the way the world worked, but this Monday really fucking sucked for Hephzie. She had slept in and almost didn't have the strength to get out of bed, but she made herself get up, get dressed, and get out the door. She and Ford had to leave for school earlier than usual since they didn't have a ride anymore, and so they walked together. Ford was too lost in his own mind and Hephzie's hands were full with her purse and a to-go coffee-cup to hold hands. Hephzie sipped her coffee and told herself that it was the drink that made her stomach knot uncomfortably.

In American History class, when the roll was called, Hephzie bit her lip and Ford ignored the teacher when Stan's name was called. Hephzie watched Ford carefully throughout the first class, but it was like Stan was home sick with the flu or something. Hephzie wasn't emotional, and that's what she would tell anyone if they asked, but her eyes stung when she looked at Stan's empty seat and she consumed herself by paying close attention to the class. Unfortunately, the economic shift in America during the 1920s wasn't enough to keep Hephzibah's attention and she soon thought back to her missing best friend.

In Music class, she played her harmonica like her heart was broken, which earned her an A for an assignment when she had to play an original song. In Language Arts, she daydreamed the class away, forcing herself not to look at Stan's desk. Hephzie could only bite her lip and take down notes over their newest book. During lunch, Ford was quiet, but he didn't seem mad or upset. He simply ate casually, and often chatted with Hephzie about his morning. Hephzie talked back, usually only with "mm, hm", "uh, hu", and "yup". Every once and awhile, Hephzie would say something a little more interesting to make Ford believe she was paying attention, but all she could think about was how much she wanted her best friend next to her.

Ford was thinking the same thing.

* * *

That night, Hephzie distracted herself with work. Ford distracted himself by looking at other colleges. None of which made the teenagers feel any better.

* * *

That night, Stan slept in his car again, confident that soon he wouldn't have to anymore.

* * *

 **April 14th, 1972**

Ford was depressed. It wasn't teen angst. It wasn't stress over classes. It wasn't even anger or frustration. He was down a dark hole, sinking slowly, and there was no one to reach out to so they could pull him back up. He was only giving half of his best effort in his work, but of course that was still ranking up the top grades in his class, not that Ford cared right now. It had been a week and he had really thought that Stan would have come home by now, but he was still gone. Maybe he had meant what he had said. Maybe he had broken Ford's project, derailing his life, and then took the first chance to leave like he didn't care, because he didn't care.

The polydactyl teenager sighed and watched Hephzie walk away, heading for Pianos For People while he headed for Pines' Pawns. He knew Hephzie was doing just as poorly as he was, but he didn't have the strength to do anything about it. He needed to take care of himself first, then he'd comfort his girlfriend. Besides, she didn't seem to want to be comforted by him at the moment. Ford walked into the flat to find his mother sitting on the windowsill by the pink-glowing eye.

She smiled and said, "Stanford, how was your day?"

"It was fine, thank you, Ma." He said politely and smiled. "How was your day?"

"Fine. Your brother called."

"Oh, how's Shermie?"

"No, not Sherman, Stanley." Ma corrected.

Ford's smile dropped. "Oh." He paused for a moment before adding. "How is he?"

"He's okay." Ma said as she blinked hard, her red lip quivering. "He's alive and well and says he safe. Says he's going to Pennsylvania for a potential job opportunity."

Ford's anger was boiling back up to the surface. He turned to the fridge, snagged an orange, and said, "That's great. I've got homework to do."

"Stanford," She said and stood up as her son began to peel away the skin of the fruit. "I know you and your brother are in a bad spot right now - Lord knows me and your Uncle Jack have been there, done that - but…"

"Look, Ma, I'm fine." Ford said, cutting her off in the nicest way he could. He gave her the most convincing smile he could muster and started his way for the hall. "You've got enough on your place without worrying about me. I promise, I'm fine."

She opened her mouth to argue, but Ford was already gone and soon Ma heard the twins' bedroom door closed. She sighed and decided that it was best to let it go.

* * *

 **April 25th, 1972**

Stan held his jacket closer to him. It hid away his growling, shrinking gut as he walked down the sidewalks of New York. He had held off coming to this state, not really thrilled about the idea of running into Shermie or Daisy, but it had been the closest state to him when he needed to get the hell out of Pennsylvania. Okay, so maybe the Rip-Off wasn't a great idea. It wasn't like the Shammies where it only inconvenienced people or pissed them off; the Rip-Off had given people bad rashes that proved to be contagious. It had hurt people. Stan swore to himself that if he ever picked up a bad product again, he would make sure that - at the very least - it wouldn't physically hurt anyone.

The sudden rush out of Pennsylvania meant that Stan didn't have time to earn more cash and he nearly spent all of his money on gas to get to New York. Now he was in the Big Apple, on the other side of the city from Shermie's apartment, and completely broke and hungry. Stan didn't realize how much he had taken for granted how blessed he was to have three hot meals in front of him every day thanks to his mother's excellent cooking and his father's income, but now he was on his own and hadn't eaten in two days.

The seventeen-year-old was past "hangry" and was desperate. The walking around probably wasn't helping him keep up his energy, but he needed to save on gas and the traffic wouldn't help, seeing how people tend to spend gallons of gas by just saying in the same spot. For the Pines family, there is no such thing as swallowing your pride. Stan tried to get his mush of a brain to work and ignore his stomach as it growled louder than an angry dog and he trudged on to find something to eat.

The next morning, Stan finally swallowed his pride, but he didn't go to Shermie's. Instead, he ate an old muffin from behind a Stardollars coffee shop. He ended up taking four croissant and some bread that was a day away from growing mold. It wasn't stealing if no one wanted it.

The next day, Stan hit a new low. He had nearly mastered the art of wallet-stealing, but he had been caught outside the subway, meaning he had to run for his freedom out of the state. Time for a quick name-change.

* * *

 **April 28th, 1972**

Hephzie sighed with relief as she plopped on her bed. It had been the first good day in a long time. She hugged her pillow as she breathed slowly and started to relax. If she wasn't careful she might fall asleep. Which, in hindsight, wouldn't be the end of the world. It was Friday, so Hephzie could go to sleep, then get up in the morning, shower, then go to work. On her new motorcycle. And show off her new watch. Hephzie grinned with aching cheeks and looked at her left hand.

Usually, when most girls were excited about what was on their left hand, it was a ring, but not Hephzie. She didn't want a ring. She wasn't ready, and quite frankly, neither was Ford. But still, a gift was a gift, and the fact that it came from him made Hephzie smile. Even with everything going on, Ford still took the time to do something nice for her and get her such a thoughtful gift. Then again, planning this little outing out had probably been a good distraction for Ford. Hephzie had been feeling so blue for a long time, but now she was turning red with blush.

The phone by her bed rang and she sat up to grab it so her grandparents could sleep. "Cece household." She said as she sat cross-legged on the bed.

"Uh… hey, Hephzie."

She nearly dropped the phone. "Stanley?!"


	15. Phone Call

This had meant a lot to Stan. He had thought about it all week when not thinking about where his next meal was gonna come from or if the cops were still on his tail. He thought he might stick around New York long enough to use a payphone and call, but that plan got debunked when he got chased out of the state. And Vermont was too small and close to New York, so he had to put some distance between him and NY before he could make the phone call.

Stan had found a payphone outside of a diner. He counted his change before stepping out of the car and decided that he did have enough for a hot meal and the phone call. He hadn't eaten all day. Food or phone call? Stan checked the time and saw that it was dinnertime. Knowing Poindexter, he probably took the birthday girl out on a special dinner-date, so to kill some time, Stan entered the diner and ate as much as he gut could hold. The food and drink made his brain function properly and he tried to think of his next move. Portland, Maine was only… what? An hour and a half away? A good city where gullible tourists were just waiting to be scammed by… what was his name, now? He had gotten his hands on a fake ID back in New York, but now he needed a new one. Shit, guess he'd have to do that first before he tried to earn some cash in Portland.

Well, whoever he was, Stan paid for the bill and walked out to the payphone out by the street. Despite feeling better than he had all week, his full stomach started to turn on him and his throat felt tight. He checked his busted-up watch and saw that it wasn't even that late. To eat up some time, Stan started to go on a walk. It was pleasantly cool out in the night. The wind howled only slightly and ruffled Stan's hair. It played with the flags above the homeless teen's head and cooled him down as he walked into town, his hands buried deep in his pockets.

This was different than when he called Ma. He had called to assure her that he was fine, to see if she hated him as much as everyone else did, to let someone know how sorry he was. Ma had listened and talked to him pleasantly, reassuring him that he could do this and only ended the phone call after Stan promised to call her again when he got the chance. Maybe after his first phone call he'd talk to Ma again. No, she was probably heading for bed. Next time, definitely. Ma deserved that much.

This was different. Stan would like to think he knew her well enough, but he had been wrong about his other best friend; why not be wrong about her? Was she mad at him? Did she even want to talk to him? Stan didn't get a chance to see her or say goodbye and he hated that. The last time they had spoken was when she had been excited for Ford about his project. She had waved Stan goodbye as he drove away from the school, leaving her with Ford so she could wish him luck and then treat him to a date. Still, now seemed like the best time to call her, and even if she did hate him, now he'd know and the guilt of not talking to her could go away and be replaced with the usual pain Stan carried around with him.

When Stan had turned around and finally reached the payphone again, he locked the door behind him and dug around in his pocket for the coins. He recounted his quarters. He had enough for a decent phone call. He slipped in two coins and dialed the number he had known since he was six-years-old.

It only rang once. " _Cece household._ "

Stan cleared his throat. "Uh… hey, Hephzie."

" _Stanley?!_ " Hephzie gasped.

"Happy Birthday." Stan said sheepishly as he leaned against the glass door.

" _Sweet Lord._ " Hephzie said and it sounded like her throat was tightening on her. " _Stanley, I… I missed ya, I really… it's so good to hear from ya!_ "

"Hey, hey," Stan said, a little worried that his best friend sounded so upset. Nothing could ever upset that tuff gal. "C'mon, Hephzie, ya sound like someone died." Hephzie chuckled, making Stan's heart fluttered. God, it felt so good to hear her laugh again!

" _I'm okay, Stan, I'm just so happy ya called!_ " Hephzie explained. " _Best birthday present ever!_ "

"You must've gotten some real junk this year, sis." He teased, a smile on his lips. It felt weird, almost like he had nearly forgotten what it was like to smile, and not a stupid fake smile to sell merchandise, either.

Hephzie chuckled again. " _Nah, I actually had a pretty great day! You'll never believe it! Grandpa got me a motorcycle!_ "

Stan stood up straight. "Nu, uh! Are you shitting me?!" He asked, happy for her.

" _Nu, uh!_ " Hephzie answered. " _Well, Grandpa knew I'd been savin' up for one for a few months now, but he has a friend from church who had a cousin that just died n' owned a bike, so Grandpa bought it for a good price n' explained that it was my birthday n' graduation present._ "

"Hey, that's great, Hephzie!" Stan congratulated. "With that sexy jacket you got n' badass attitude, you'll sit right in with all the biker-gangs."

" _Thanks,_ " Hephzie laughed. " _But I don't think I'll join a gang anytime soon. Ford already made me promise to stay outta trouble._ "

"Killjoy." Stan muttered and then laughed at his own joke. As Hephzie joined him, Stan's thoughts reverted to Hephzie's boyfriend. Ford was definitely still mad at him and never wanted to see him again, and even if he had ranted to Hephzie a million times, it was becoming clearer with every word she spoke that Hephzie wasn't as mad at Stan as Ford was. "Listen, Hephzie," Stan said slowly and she was quiet so she could listen. "I'm… I'm really sorry I didn't call sooner…"

" _Oh, Stanley,_ " Hephzie said in a low voice. " _It's okay, don't worry 'bout it. Just… are ya okay? Where ya at right now?_ "

"I'm okay," Stan answered; he couldn't help but smile as his only friend left in the world seemed so concerned about him. "I'm heading to Portland tomorrow…"

" _Oregon?_ " Hephzie asked, generally confused why in the world Stan would go all the way to Oregon.

"No, Maine."

" _Oh. Well, if ya see any cute mermaids, be sure to get a photo n' send it to me._ "

Stan chuckled and tried to steer the conversation back to his apology. "But seriously, Hephzie, I'm… I'm really sorry that I didn't say goodbye. And I'm sorry that I… I'm sorry that I broke your boyfriend's project."

" _So ya did break it?_ " Hephzie clarified.

"Didn't Sixer tell you?"

" _Oh, he told me._ " Hephzie said and Stan could've sworn it sounded like she rolled her eyes. " _But I never believed him._ "

"Well… I did," Stan admitted shamefully. "But it was an accident, I swear! I swear it on my life that it was an accident! I thought I had fixed it, but then he came home spitting mad, and he didn't believe me!"

" _I know, Stan, I know._ " Hephzie said softly. " _I'd never believe you'd break it on purpose. N' it's okay. I'm just sorry I wasn't there when ya needed me…_ "

"Stop." Stan said firmly. "Stop. You don't get to guilt yourself over this, cuz there's nothing to guilt yourself over, ya got it?"

Hephzie gave a watery chuckle. " _Got it._ "

"Aw, c'mon, sis," Stan said, picking up the sadness in her voice. He hated to hear her be so upset. "It's your big day! Don't get all teary-eyed on me! You're a big girl now!"

" _Hey!_ " Hephzie snapped. " _I may be a girl, but when have ya ever known me to cry?!_ "

"Just now." He sneered cheekily.

" _Not on your life!_ " She laughed.

"Whatever. So how does it feel to be eighteen?"

" _Same, but different. Ask me again when after I vote for president._ "

"What, you're not gonna go out and buy some cigarettes?"

" _Fuck no!_ " Hephzie gagged, making Stan laugh.

Stan kept most of the conversation on Hephzie. She told Stan what she did for her birthday, how Ford took her out to dinner and got her a golden watch, how she's been studying for her finals, and how Grandma tried to "free the little music-man in the wooden box" by smashing the radio with her cane. While she told the story, Stan checked how much change he had and guessed that he needed to end the phone call soon.

After he laughed over how poor Grandma Cece broke the radio, Stan said hesitantly, "Well, I gotta go, Hephzie."

" _Oh._ " Hephzie said and then begged, " _Okay, but please,_ please, _call me again when ya get the chance, okay, Stan? N'... I know ya probably don't wanna come back, but ya've always got a home at my place. Ya know that, right?_ "

Stan sighed and played with the phone cord. Even if he wanted to go back home, he couldn't anymore. He had been banned from New Jersey thanks to the Shammies. Maybe he could come back after a few years if he kept his head low, but for now he had burned that bridge. And Hephzie was way too close to comfort to the pawn shop, and to Ford. "I know," Stan said and tried to fake up a positive tone. "And I promise I'll call again soon. Just… just tell Ford…" Stan trailed off. There were so many things he wanted to tell Ford. He wanted to tell Ford that he was sorry. He wanted to tell Ford that it was an accident and to beg him to believe him. He wanted to tell Ford that he'll support him in whatever he does, just please let him back into his life!

" _What?_ " Hephzie said gently to help Stan along.

Stan took in a deep breath. "Tell him that he better treat you right or I'll hunt him down and kick his ass."

Hephzie chuckled again and said, " _I will. N'... thanks for callin' Stanley. It means the world to me._ "

From then on, no matter how tight things got for him, no matter how many meals he had skipped out on, no matter how desperate he got, Stan always made sure he had enough quarters for two phone calls: one for Ma and one for Hephzie.

* * *

" _Happy Birthday._ " Stan said sheepishly.

A million emotions flooded her. Two weeks ago if Stan had called she would've scolded him for not calling sooner and demanded he come home, but out of fear of losing him forever, of him hanging up and never calling again, Hephzie bit her lip. She wasn't even angry anymore. If anything, she missed Stan more than he'll ever understand. After growing up with him, it was lonely having her best friend disappear like that. Though she was sad, joy she hadn't felt in a long time swelled up in her chest.

"Sweet Lord." Hephzie said and swallowed to try to ease her tight throat. "Stanley, I… I missed ya, I really… it's so good to hear from ya!"

" _Hey, hey,_ " Stan said softly. " _C'mon, Hephzie, ya sound like someone died._ "

Hephzie chuckled as she sat up on her knees on her bed. "I'm okay, Stan, I'm just so happy ya called! Best birthday present ever!" She cheered to try to lighten the mood.

" _You must've gotten some real junk this year, sis._ "

Hephzie chuckled again. God, when was the last time she had laughed this much?! "Nah, I actually had a pretty great day! You'll never believe it! Grandpa got me a motorcycle!"

" _Nu, uh! Are you shitting me?!_ " Stan asked happily.

"Nu, uh!" Hephzie answered, copying him like an immature child, a smile on her face so strong her cheeks started to ache. "Well, Grandpa knew I'd been savin' up for one for a few months now, but he has a friend from church who had a cousin that just died n' owned a bike, so Grandpa bought it for a good price n' explained that it was my birthday n' graduation present."

" _Hey, that's great, Hephzie!_ " Stan congratulated. " _With that sexy jacket you got n' badass attitude, you'll sit right in with all the biker-gangs._ "

"Thanks," Hephzie laughed. "But I don't think I'll join a gang anytime soon. Ford already made me promise to stay outta trouble."

" _Killjoy._ " Stan muttered and then laughed at his own joke.

As Hephzie laugh with him, she thought about how to get Stan to come home. It could work out. Sure, okay, Stan wasn't welcomed back home, Hephzie could work with that, but why shouldn't Stan move in with Hephzibah's family.? Grandma and Grandpa have always loved the twins and if Hephzie was going to college soon, they could use the company. Stan could still see his brother and… and… okay, it would be difficult, but they'd work through it!

" _Listen, Hephzie,_ " Stan said slowly, pulling Hephzie away from her thoughts. She pressed the phone closer to her ear and listen carefully. " _I'm… I'm really sorry I didn't call sooner…_ "

"Oh, Stanley," Hephzie said in a low voice. The idea of lecturing him for not coming to her place immediately was now as dead as a doornail. She pitied Stan too much to be mad. "It's okay, don't worry 'bout it. Just… are ya okay? Where ya at right now?"

" _I'm okay,_ " Stan answered. " _I'm heading to Portland tomorrow…_ "

"Oregon?" Hephzie asked. Why in the world Stan would go all the way to Oregon? Did he have a job waiting for him? Wait… wasn't Hephzie's family from Oregon...

" _No, Maine._ " Stan corrected.

"Oh." Hephzie said and was relieved to hear that Stan had some sort of plan and wasn't too far away. "Well, if ya see any cute mermaids, be sure to get a photo n' send it to me." She teased.

Stan chuckled, but it didn't last. " _But seriously, Hephzie, I'm… I'm really sorry that I didn't say goodbye. And I'm sorry that I… I'm sorry that I broke your boyfriend's project._ "

"So ya did break it?" Hephzie clarified. She wasn't mad, but she had never really believed that Stan broke it, but now hearing him say that he did...

" _Didn't Sixer tell you?_ "

"Oh, he told me." Hephzie said as she rolled her eyes. "But I never believed him."

" _Well… I did, but it was an accident, I swear! I swear it on my life that it was an accident! I thought I had fixed it, but then he came home spitting mad, and he didn't believe me!_ "

So, it had been just as she thought. She had been right. Stan would never do something like that. "I know, Stan, I know." Hephzie said softly and held the phone with both hands. What she wouldn't give to say this to his face. Her eyes began to sting. On second thought, maybe it was best that they were talking over the phone. That way no one saw her cry. "I'd never believe you'd break it on purpose. N' it's okay. I'm just sorry I wasn't there when ya needed me…"

" _Stop._ " Stan said firmly, making Hephzie jump a little. " _Stop. You don't get to guilt yourself over this, cuz there's nothing to guilt yourself over, ya got it?_ "

She gave a watery chuckle and rubbed her eyes dry. "Got it."

" _Aw, c'mon, sis,_ " Stan said. Crap, could he tell that she almost cried?! " _It's your big day! Don't get all teary-eyed on me! You're a big girl now!_ "

"Hey!" Hephzie snapped. "I may be a girl, but when have ya ever known me to cry?!"

" _Just now._ " He sneered cheekily.

"Not on your life!" She laughed.

" _Whatever. So how does it feel to be eighteen?_ "

"Same, but different. Ask me again when after I vote for president."

" _What, you're not gonna go out and buy some cigarettes?_ "

"Fuck no!" Hephzie gagged, making Stanley laugh.

Stan kept most of the conversation on Hephzie, which was fine by her. She had a feeling that Stan needed a distraction from whatever Hell he was going through. Hephzie told Stan what she did for her birthday, how Ford took her out to dinner and got her a golden watch, how she's been studying for her finals, and how Grandma tried to "free the little music-man in the wooden box" by smashing the radio with her cane.

After he laughed over how Grandma broke the radio, Stan said hesitantly, "Well, I gotta go, Hephzie."

"Oh." Hephzie said and gave her idea some more thought. She couldn't make Stan come back if he didn't want to, but what she could do is be there for her friend, just like Grandpa said. "Okay, but please, _please_ , call me again when ya get the chance, okay, Stan? N'... I know ya probably don't wanna come back, but ya've always got a home at my place. Ya know that, right?"

Stan sighed. " _I know. And I promise I'll call again soon. Just… just tell Ford…_ " Stan trailed off.

"What?" Hephzie said gently to help him along.

Stan took in a deep breath. " _Tell him that he better treat you right or I'll hunt him down and kick his ass._ "

Hephzie chuckled again and was tempted to tell him to tell Ford himself, but she settled with, "I will. N'... thanks for callin' Stanley. It means the world to me."

Hephzie hated to keep secrets and tell lies - her grandparents had raised her to be honest and that taught her that a person was only as good as their word - but she never told Ford about Stan calling her. Or how they chatted on the phone every so often. Or how much she missed him. But she did tell Grandpa.


	16. Graduation

**May 27th, 1972**

Stanford let out a deep breath, not that much different than the one he had in his lungs the day he had presented his failure of a project. He looked around the field of teenagers in front of him to try to see his girlfriend. Oh, why did their last names have to be so far apart in the alphabet? Why did she have to be a C and he a P? Stanford looked to his left and to his right, and though he didn't mind the teenagers he was sandwiched between, they all had someone to talk to. Stanford was supposed to have someone next to him, but it had been apparent for a long time that he would have to do this alone.

To distract himself from the pain in his gut, Stanford decided to focus on Hephzibah. Something about her had helped him through this whole ordeal. He will never understand how she always managed to do it all, but she did. Even back when Grandma Cece had her stroke, leaving Hephzibah responsible for caring for the home and cooking meals and doing chores so her Grandpa could take care of the store and Grandma, Stanford had been so impressed with everything Hephzibah was willing, and could, do. Hephzibah had somehow managed to not only graduate second-best in the class, right next to Stanford, but be there for her boyfriend in ways no one else could be. Stanford felt like she was the only person that listened to him, that talked back, that had conversations with him. She argued fairly with him. She coached and lectured and was his biggest cheerleader. And he wanted to return the favor.

The principal stood on the stage after the chorus sang an emotional song deaf to Stanford and a few students gave some speeches. Stanford had been offered the chance to give a speech, but he had turned it down. He hadn't been in the mood at the time the offer was given, but now he sort of regretted his rash decision. He could've done a much better job than the drama students or sports jocks that took up the job. The principal gave the usual speech about growth and what-not and how this day marked the end of their childhood. Stanford didn't pay any attention and only looked ahead. He wanted to catch Hephzibah before she was called up to the stage. The summer heat was making it hard to think clearly, Stanford's brain melting into mush. Why did he have to wear a suit with a gown on this hot football field? And the medals and extra garments he had to wear to showcase his advanced academics probably weren't helping.

The principal finally began to call off names, starting with the As, and the first row stood up. On the last seat of the first row was Hephzibah, her dreadlocks down and her cap barely on her head, her golden hoops matching nicely with her olive-green gown. Stanford grinned and was ready to cheer her on for when she got on the stage for her diploma. Some students only had one or two people applaud while some had a dozen or so clap for them. Fellow students and friends also clapped, not just the bleachers full of family members. The Bs were called and then a C. And then…

"Alicia-Sarah Hephzibah Fisher Cece."

The young lady walked proudly up the stage, grinning from ear-to-ear, as her family and loved ones cheered her on. Stanford clapped and smiled full of pride. Behind him, he could hear Grandpa hollering loudly, "THAT'S MY GURL! THAT'S MY BABY! ATTA GO, HALF-PINT!" and Stanford could've sworn he could hear Ma and Grandma yelling. He turned his head to confirm his theory and he saw the two pairs of guardians sitting on the first row of bleachers so Grandma could sit in her wheelchair by her husband. Behind them, Sherman and Daisy sat with little Alex in his mother's clap. The new-parents clapped, smiling big for their friend, and Alex was giggling over the excitement. Ma was on Grandpa's other side, clapping, and Pa was on his wife's other side, his arms tightly crossed. Anger bubbled in Stanford's stomach when he saw that, so he faced forward to watch Hephzibah. She grabbed the diploma, shook the principal's hand, and walked across the stage, resuming her seat.

The second row stood up and started to go across the stage when their names were called. There were several rows separating Hephzibah from Stanford, so he had awhile before it was his turn. To distract him from the excitement crawling up his spine, Stanford replayed Hephzibah's shining moment in his head. He thought about her name and how rarely he heard her first, second, middle, first-last, and second-last name. Stanford tried to think of where each name came from. Let's see… Hephzibah hated "Alicia-Sarah", but never said why. Verbal and physical cues over the years had led Stanford to believe she hated those names because her mother had given them to her, the only thing that woman ever gave her. In fact, if Stanford remembered correctly, Hephzibah's name used to be "Alicia-Sarah Fisher Cece". Was "Fisher" the last name of her father? Or did Hephzibah's mother just like the sound of it? No, it was most likely that whoever Hephzibah's father was, his last name was "Fisher". Hephzibah always went by "Hephzibah" because it was the name her "real" parents had given her, the people that wanted her, wanted to raise her, and who loved her. Stanford could respect that. Still, he thought "Alicia-Sarah" was a nice name.

The third row now stood up. Stanford opened his playbill for the graduation ceremony and re-read it to give him something to do. The fourth row stood up. He dusted off his gown and checked to make sure his polished shoes were tied. He readjusted his glasses and cap to make sure he looked fine. His heart was racing, but his face refused to do anything but smile. It was time for the fifth row to stand up, and Stanford did so, along with the rest of his classmates. He walked up to the front of the stage step by step until he reached the foot of the small set of stairs. He clenched his six-fingered fists and prayed he wouldn't trip or do anything stupid while on stage. And then finally…

"Stanford Filbrick Pines."

As he walked up the stage, his attention was caught at hearing cheering and clapping and then a long whistle from his girlfriend. Stanford looked down at the front row and saw Hephzibah whistling so loud that students surrounding her cringed and covered their ears, but she didn't give a single fuck. She clapped along with the Pines and Ceces in the bleachers and met eyes with Stanford, hers sparkling with happiness. She even mouthed the words "I love you" as she applauded. Stanford smiled, calmly shook hands with the principal, and walked away with his diploma in his hands. He looked at the bleachers just in time to see his older brother stand and clap, Daisy clapping from her seat; Stanford's heart swelled when he saw little Alex try to clap for his uncle. Ma was in tears as she cheered and clapped. Grandpa whooped and hollered as he clapped, Grandma clapped, too, and Pa calmly applauded his son. Stanford got off the stage and his moment ended just as soon as it began.

Seated, Stanford had a chance to read his diploma, protected by a thin plastic cover that would last long enough until he put it in a frame. He already had one waiting for him on his desk, but first a feast back at the family pawn shop for the graduates. Stanford's stomach, free from nerves, growled as it longed for food. The young man suddenly looked forward to when the whole ceremony was over and they could all go home.

There weren't that many students after Stanford, and once the last student had received their document, proving that they had finished high-school, the principal said a last few quick words, words that Stanford only paid enough attention to so he would know when to throw his cap. He kept an eye on the back of Hephzibah's head. The first thing he wanted to do as a graduate was to congratulate her on making it this far.

"... and so, we send you out into the world and wish you the best of luck! May you be successful in everything you do! With that, congratulations class of 1972!"

The school's catchphrase was shouted into the air and every student threw their caps into the air. Stanford managed to catch his back in his fist and slam on top of his unruly brown hair, while other students weren't so lucky. One student nearly crashed into Stanford's empty chair when he tried to catch his cap. Couples were already kissing, letting their caps hit the fake-grass of the football field, like it was a New Year. Stanford looked around wildly, having lost track of Hephzibah, but above all the yelling and cheering, we could've sworn he heard someone call his name. "Ford! Ford!"

He looked to his right, the side of the field closest to him, and he saw Hephzibah had already escaped the rows of seats and was running towards him. He squeezed out of the row, ran up to her, and picked her up by around the waist, her feet about a foot off the ground. Her laughter jingling in his ears like bells, Hephzibah grabbed his face and kissed him. Stanford put her down, arms around her waist, and kissed her back. They were oblivious to the noise and commotion around them. Graduates being trampled by juniors and sophomores. Students crying tears of joy and woe. Mothers pulling out tissues and wiping their eyes dry. Fathers patting their sons' backs or hugging their daughters.

Finally, when the young couple pulled away, Hephzibah spoke first. "Congratulations, Brainiac."

"Thanks." Ford chuckled. "You, too."

The couple looked to where they had been their family sitting and found that they hadn't moved. Daisy was bouncing her son on her knee. Sherman stood next to his wife and son, clearly waiting for his brother to come to him, like the rest of the adults. Hephzibah caught sight of her grandfather and ran to him like she was a little kid again. She hugged him and the old man squeezed her shoulders tightly. "Hephzibah, sweetheart, we're so proud of ya." Grandpa said.

"Thanks." Hephzibah said sheepishly and was distracted by a tug on her gown. She looked down to see her grandmother trying to get her attention. Hephzibah hadn't seen her this grounded and focused in a long time; she got on one knee to be eye-level with the old lady.

"Imma so proud of choo, Hephzibah." Grandma said and held her arms out for a hug.

Hephzibah ignored the stinging in her eyes, grateful that the old woman remembered her name, and she hugged her gently. "I love ya, Grandma."

"Aw, I love choo, too, baby."

Stanford was distracted by his mother's tight hug. "My handsome bubelah, you've done amazing! I'm so proud of you! Congratulations! You've worked so hard!"

"Thanks, Ma." Stanford replied and hugged his mother back. It felt good to be in her loving embrace for a few moments.

"Nice work, son." Pa grunted, his arms still crossed. His arms hardly ever untangled themselves from in front of his chest.

"Thank you, Pa."

Sherman walked up to Stanford and patted his back. "Hey, great job, little brother. I'm proud."

"Thanks, Shermie." Daisy was close behind Sherman, holding the little seven-month-old, who made grabby-hands for his uncle. Stanford smiled and held his arms out for his nephew. "Hey there, Alex. You didn't get too bored, did you?"

Daisy laughed as she handed her son to Stanford. "No, he liked the cheering and clapping. I think he clapped for nearly every student once he knew what to do."

Alex made a grab for Stanford's glasses, making the teenager bend his head back and chuckle at the baby. To make the child laugh, Stanford removed his olive-green graduate's cap and placed it on Alex's head. He laughed and started to feel and play with the gold tassel that hung loosely from the side.

Hephzibah walked over to them and tickled Alex under his chin before kissing the baby's cheek. "Well, don't ya look handsome, Lil'Lex."

The baby continued to laugh and Ma snapped a few pictures with her camera, which she had pulled from her purse. Stanford handed Alex over to Sherman and put his cap back on for more photos to please his mother. With an arm around Stanford and her other hand proudly showing her diploma, Hephzibah was by Stanford's side. He grinned at the camera and did the same as his girlfriend. Then, finally, it was time for dinner.

* * *

Meanwhile, at that very moment, Stan wore a straw hat, suspenders, and a bow tie in Ohio. He looked too much like Shermie for his liking, but if it would sell these goddamn vacuums, then that's what he's gotta do. He's lost a lot of weight from going days without food and after being banned from Maine, Massachusetts, and Connecticut, he needed to try to stay out of trouble in Ohio and actually make a living. At this rate, he'll be banned from every state in America by the time he reaches his twenties. He needed to be more careful.

Stan knocked on his first door and a graying-haired fellow with a green tie opened the door. "Sir, would you like to buy a Stan-Vac Vacuum. Stan-Vac: it sucks more than anything!"

The man closed the door and Stan frowned when he saw his mistake.

"Gotta work on that."

* * *

The little party had been fun, enjoying Ma's cooking and laughing and talking. Afterwards, the married couples socialized over coffee and cake while Hephzibah was perfectly happy to entertain Franklin. Stanford was eating his second slice of graduation cake when he had realized that his girlfriend and nephew were missing, but Sherman and Daisy didn't seem worried. He slipped away from the room and traveled down the hallway, following the sounds of laughter and falling blocks to his now tidied bedroom.

Most of Stanley's things had been thrown out by Pa's hand while Hephzibah and Stanford had gone looking for the missing teenager, but thanks to Hephzibah, some of Stanley's things had been preserved and moved to the closet in her room. She wasn't a hoarder, but she didn't have the heart to throw away things like Stanley's comic book collection, his favorite VCR tapes, his boxing gloves, and some clothes. Stanford didn't care what happened to his brother's things at the moment. Now his bedroom was starting to look more like his own private space. The bottom bunk was neatly made and untouched, the room tidied and seemingly bigger thanks to the disappeared clutter.

In the center of the room, Hephzibah sat on the floor in her olive-green dress, the one she had bought just for the graduation ceremony, and helped Alex build a tower, which he would then knock down, and she would yell "Oh, no!" and the baby would laugh. Stanford smiled and sat next to Hephzibah as she began to help Alex build another tower out of the blocks she had given him for the holidays. Daisy had let it slip during one visit that the blocks had been Alex's favorite toy so far, right next to his stuffed otter which his parents had named "Ottie".

"Got bored?" Hephzibah guessed.

"This seemed significantly more entertaining than discussing politics." Stanford said, making his girlfriend smile.

Alex continued to stack the blocks on top of one another, too distracted by the game to notice that his uncle had entered the room. Hephzibah gave a helping hand and soon Stanford couldn't help but stack blocks, too. Once it got to as high as Alex wanted it to go, he knocked the tower over with a shove and Hephzibah jokingly cried out, "Oh, no!", making the toddler laugh so hard he was short of breath. Stanford also laughed, and it was then that the baby finally acknowledged the graduate's presence.

Alex could only sit up by himself. He couldn't walk or crawl yet, but according to his parents he was close to crawling. He seemed to lean towards his uncle, but fell forward. Stanford chuckled and picked up the child and sat him on his lap. "Hey there, little buddy? Having fun with Auntie Hephzie?"

Hephzibah blushed at hearing her being called "Auntie Hephzie". As silly as it sounded, it made her feel like she was really part of the family. She loved Alex and loved helping out with him and being a part of his life. No one noticed her goofy smile.

Alex reached a chubby hand up to Stanford's glasses and tried to grab them, but once again Stanford titled his head back and shook a finger at his nephew. "No, no, Alex."

Stanford knew why his nephew always grabbed at his glasses. It had been a fun game Stanley had come up with. During the holidays, when Alex was starting to recognize faces, it had been fun to confuse the child by which twin was who. Stanford would take off his glasses and both uncles would look at the baby and watch as he awed and frowned in wonder and confusion. Sometimes Stanley would put on Stanford's glasses to really throw Alex off. It had been fun and made everyone laugh, but now it had built in a bad habit of the baby reaching to grab glasses. Stanford wondered if Alex missed his Uncle Stan. The polydactyl teenager couldn't blame the baby for missing his uncle. He missed… no! No, he didn't! Stanford wasn't going to ruin this special day by thinking about him.

Stanford turned Alex around and sat him on his lap as he built a new tower. Hephzibah let him do this one on his own and she leaned against Stanford, messing with the sleeve of his white dress shirt.

"So… I've been thinkin'..." She said slowly. It sounded to Stanford like the conversation she wanted to have was serious, but she was unsure if she wanted to have it. His heart skipped a beat. Did she want to try to find Stanley again? Was she going to bring him up? Stanford had not even said his name in weeks. If Hephzibah wanted to talk about him, she was going to have to find someone else to talk to. "N'... I wanna go to Backupsmore."

Stanford relaxed and looked down at her in utter shock. He had been accepted by the college he had found only a week ago and had told Hephzibah about the college he was going to. He knew Hephzibah was still indecisive of where to go, but Stanford thought that Backupsmore would be the last college she would want to go to. "Really? Why? I swear, if you're only going because I'm…"

"No, I swear, ya goin' there is a perk for me at this point. I know it's far away n' I know I said I'd stay local, but I did some research when ya told me ya got accepted, n' I… I've never been so excited to go to college." Hephzibah started to explain as she watched Alex play. "I knew I had to go to college to be a doctor, but no college excited me. I couldn't see myself goin' to any of the colleges I was lookin' at, but the more I looked at Backupsmore, the more I saw myself goin' there. It's the size I want, it's got the major I want. Actually, it's got a really good medical field, partnerin' with neighborin' hospitals n' medical schools. If I start there, I could go to medical school n' get my doctorate."

"But… what about your grandmother?" Stanford asked. "I know you are concerned for her."

Hephzibah nodded. "I still am, but Grandpa had a stern talk with me the other day n' convinced me to not let distance stop me from goin' to school."

Stanford wrapped an arm around his girlfriend and gave her a soft squeeze. "Well, I'm happy for you. Wherever you want to go, whatever you want to do, I will support you."

"Thanks, sweetheart." Hephzibah said and held one of his free hands, kissing it with gratitude. "N'... look, I know it's not West Coast Tech, but you're not the first person to not get into their dream school n' ya won't be the last. Just promise me you'll give Backupsmore a chance."

Stanford raised an eyebrow at her. "I already am, aren't I?" He asked sternly.

"Yes, but I know ya, Fordsie." Hephzibah said with a roll of her eyes. "I know how your mind works."

She had a point. Stanford still desperately wanted to go to his dream school, but he couldn't spend the rest of his life begging for something he couldn't have. He had to move on. Work with what he had. "My dear," Stanford sighed. "You have my word that I will give Backupsmore the respect it deserves and treat it as seriously as I would treat West Coast."

"Good."

Alex knocked over his little tower, so Hephzibah had to yell "Oh, no!" to make the baby laugh. Stanford smiled as he watched Hephzibah play with the infant and his mind wandered. He thought about what Hephzibah had said. He thought about their choices. He had fully prepared himself for them to go to different colleges and make their relationship long distance, but if she truly wanted to go to Backupsmore…

Truth be told, it was a good college. Yes, it's clearly never anyone's first choice and has some drawbacks, but the school provides many resources to make up for its lack in prestige. The GPA requirement was relatively low, giving people who want an education a chance to go to school, no matter what they're background in high-school was. Because of this, a lot of people went to the college, providing a huge campus outside of San Francisco. And, because of the huge school-population, tuition in-state and out-of-state was relatively cheap. Still cost a pretty penny, but compared to other colleges it was more affordable. These factors, and the fact that Backupsmore had a wide field of majors to choose from, and the benefit of it being far away from home (a crucial factor for Stanford) made the choice to go to Backupsmore relatively easy for Stanford. He could understand why it would appeal to Hephzibah, and if she was going into the medical field and needed to get accepted into a good medical school, then Backupsmore's connections would certainly help her in the long run.

Stanford also started to think about college life. He had been thinking about it for a long time, living in a dorm, studying hard, excelling academically, but in the past he had always envisioned him alone. He had wanted to go to college long before his principal had introduced him to West Coast Tech and long before Hephzibah realized she wanted to be a doctor. Stanford always knew Stanley would be opposed to the idea, and at the time, Stanford truly was torn between sailing the world with his brother or furthering his education. Now that choice was much easier to make.

Stanford forced himself to avert his thoughts to back what will be, not what could've been. As Hephzibah sat by his side and built the block tower with his nephew, he thought about their shared lives together and what it would look like. Maybe, if things continued to work out, they could get an apartment together on campus or in the city. While Hephzibah works part-time at the local hospital and goes to school, Stanford studies all he can and tries to figure how what he wants to do, for as of right now the answer to the question "What do you wanna be when you grow up?" was still "I don't know." Or maybe they'll both just stay on campus. Maybe after the four years were up, before Hephzibah transfers to medical school, they could get married. Or maybe even wait until she's done with her education. Stanford had toyed with the idea of marriage ever since they started dating; He didn't really see much point into dating someone you don't want to spend the rest of your life with. And the more Stanford thought about it, the more he thought about Hephzibah in a white dress and him in a suit, the more he thought about their work and how they harmonized, the more he thought about a home they could build together, the more Stanford wanted to make those thoughts to become a reality.

It was then that - while Hephzibah would definitely work part-time, because that was what she has always done and always took pride in - Stanford decided that he would have to squeeze in time for a job as well, so he could save up for a ring.


	17. Move

**_June 15th, 1972_**

Stan managed to stay out of trouble for awhile in Ohio. The Stan-Vacs were actually selling well. Not only that, he made a decent amount of money, lived in a cheap hotel rather than his car, ate three meals a day, and regained his lost weight. Stan celebrated turning eighteen by drinking a Birthday Cake flavored milkshake with his cheap burger and fries. He had been tempted to call Ma or Hephzie, but ultimately decided that he would be happier spending the day he turned into an adult alone.

* * *

Backupsmore had two orientations: early-orientation on June 15th, 16th, and 17th; and late-orientation on July 20th, 21st, and 22nd. Ford and Hephzie decided to fly down for early-orientation. The woman with dreadlocks had planned a special birthday surprise for her boyfriend, seeing how he did something for her. She knew his birthday would be a touchy subject and she knew there was a reason that Ford was so firm on the idea of going to early-orientation, but she still wanted to do something.

Hephzie managed to hide his present in her small luggage and talk pleasantly on the four-hour flight with him. The young couple had decided to have some fun while on the trip and were lucky that orientation didn't start until dinnertime and a flight could take them to the big city in the morning. For lunch, Hephzie treated Ford to sushi and gave him his present there. He raised an eyebrow at her when he saw the little box wrapped in blue paper and gave her a disapproving look. He had made is very clear that he didn't want to celebrate his birthday.

"Oh, c'mon, Fordsie." Hephzie groaned and rolled her eyes. "I swear, lunch n' a gift, that's it. Please? It's only fair considerin' ya did somethang for me."

Ford glanced down at the gold watch on Hephzie's wrist. He remembered the excitement he had over preparing the little celebration over the day Hephzie came into the world. Ford sighed, defeated, and took the birthday present. The box reminded him of the case the golden watch had come out of. He pressed his lips together to suppress a smile when he unwrapped the box and saw that it indeed did hold a watch. He opened the box and awed at a beautiful silver watch, not much different than the one Hephzie wore. Ford lifted it out of the box to examine just how stunning it really was, the blissful tick barely heard over the noise of the sushi bar and he turned it over to look at the back of the face. On the back of Hephzie's watch, engraved in cursive, it read "Ford Pines + Hephzie Cece" in tiny words. On the back of the silver watch, inside an outline of a pine tree (Hephzie always had way too much fun with pine trees), read "Make every second count."

Ford looked up at his girlfriend and saw a dazzling smile on her face as she waited for his reaction. He grinned excitedly at the gift and said, "It's perfect. Thank you, my dear."

"Now I hope ya don't think I've gotten lazy n' taken to stealin' your ideas." Hephzie teased as she picked up a sushi roll with her chopsticks and ate it whole.

Ford chuckled as he clicked the watch on his left wrist. "Of course not."

* * *

 ** _July 1st, 1972_**

Stan caught wind that the houses that bought Stan-Vac were having issues with their outlets suddenly short-circuiting. Playing it safe, he moved to Indiana.

* * *

 ** _July 4th, 1972_**

Stan spent his Fourth of July by Lake Michigan, sitting on the sandy shore of the sea-like water, a bottle of beer in his hands as he watched the fireworks. If he was going to have a fake ID and change his name, might as well change his age, too.

* * *

Ford spent his Fourth of July in New York City with Shermie and his family. He had invited Ford and Hephzie to spend the patriotic holiday with them, and so they watched the fireworks from Shermie's balcony. Franklin awed at the fireworks as he sat in Shermie's lap. While Ford had chatted his brother's ear off about Backupsmore and their trip, Hephzie was happy to sit with Daisy and watched the special light show as she munched on a hot dog.

* * *

 ** _July 19th, 1972_**

Unfortunetly, the folks in Indiana were smarter than the guys in Ohio. Stan ran for it in the dead of night. It was three in the morning when he saw Chicago, all lit up like the Big Apple's little brother, and Stan grinned as ideas to make a quick buck popped in his head.

* * *

 ** _July 20th, 1972_**

Stetson was now booked into - No, no, his name was Stan - Stan was now booked into his cruddy old apartment and settled. Chicago wasn't exactly a musical, but all the cash just waiting to be in the teenager's hands was music to his ears. But first… Stan cringed as he looked at the phone sitting by his bed. Along with the room, all phone calls were free of charge, as long as it wasn't long-distant. He wasn't worried about the price; he was worried about the scolding he had in store for him for not calling in over a month.

Stan sighed and picked up the phone.

Ma mostly cried while Stan tried to keep his own tears away.

Hephzie yelled so loud Stan's head ached for the rest of the night.

Stan was more careful about calling after that.

* * *

 ** _July 24th, 1972_**

Stetson Pinefield was making great money selling movie, play, and band tickets for a great price! If a show was sold out, try Stetson's Showtickets: prices so good it's a steal!

* * *

 ** _August 1st, 1972_**

The name Stetson Pinefield was nice while it lasted. It wouldn't take long for Stan to get into serious trouble for selling fake tickets; it was almost as bad as counterfeiting in the eyes of the law. Stan had to make a run for it. He had heard of an excellent way to make money in another state, so he forced his pounding head to think of a new name as he sped by Illinois in the middle of the night.

* * *

 ** _August 2nd, 1972_**

Sam Woods made great friends at the racetracks in Kentucky. He was so lucky that people started to follow his bets. If Sam said a horse would win, you better put your money on said horse unless you wanted to flush your cash down the drain. But no one knew that "Sam" wasn't his real name, no one knew that he slept in his car, and no one knew that he would sabatosh the races so the horse he would bet on would win.

* * *

 ** _August 3rd, 1972_**

Stan called Hephzie from a payphone outside a gas station and had a long chat with her. In the past it had been quick catch-ups, almost like a report, but this time they talked about everything under the sun that didn't make Stan's gut turn. He mostly listened to her stories as she told about customers at The Juke Joint and the hassle it was to plan for college. She hardly mentioned college, for obvious reasons, but when she did talk about it she was almost as excited about it as Ford used to be. Stan congratulated her through gritted teeth. He asked when she was moving to Backupsmore and she said she was getting on a plane for California on the seventeenth. Stan promised to call her the night before to wish her luck.

* * *

 ** _August 16th, 1972_**

The people in Kentucky must have been too drunk or too stupid (or both) to notice that Stan was cheating. That was the only explanation why he hadn't been caught yet. While Hephzie double-checked her luggage and chatted on the phone well after Grandpa went to bed, Stan sat in the phonebooth and wondered when would be the next time he got to hear her voice.

* * *

 ** _August 17th, 1972_**

Grandpa had to say his goodbyes to Hephzie outside of the piano store. He couldn't go with the freshmen to the airport, but Ma was going to drive them to the airport and see that they started on their journey safely. Ford had already shook his hand and received a pat on the back.

"Don't be a stranger, son." Grandpa had said. "N' keep an eye on my granddaughter for me, okay?"

"Yes, sir, always." Ford reassured him. Now the young man stood by the car and left Hephzie to say goodbye alone.

George wasn't like Pa where he was stoic and showed no emotion. He was a gentle soul. Still, the only time Hephzie had seen him cry was when Grandma almost died. Now, his eyes swam with tears as he looked at his little half-pint of sweet apple cider half-drunk-up. That was what he had always called Hephzie, because she had been so little for so long, but now she wasn't so little anymore.

"I'll call ya as soon as I hook up my phone, I promise." Hephzie said and hugged her grandfather around his chest. His big, beefy arms held the young woman by the shoulders. "N' please give Stanley my new number." She hissed in his ear.

Grandpa nodded. He was the only one that knew that Stan called Hephzie. He had made a promise to pass the phone number along to Stan once he had the chance. "No matter where ya go, or what ya do," Grandpa croaked. "You'll always be my little Half-Pint."

"Oh, Grandpa." Hephzie moaned and blinked away her own tears. "I'll be home before ya know it, 'k? I'll be back for Thanksgivin' n' I'll call every Sunday. I love ya."

"I love ya, too."

Hephzie gave his whiskery cheek a kiss and she turned for the car, her bags already in the trunk. Ford opened the door for her and helped her into Ma's car. Too soon for the old man, the car drove off with his granddaughter in it.

Ma later cried on Ford's shoulder on the airport. She had also hugged Hephzie tightly and whispered in her ear, "Take good care of Stanford for me, okay, sweetheart?"

Hephzie promised that she would. She was making far too many promises these days, but she always kept her word. Grandpa had told her, growing up, that a person is only as good as their word.

* * *

Ford had arrived on campus just on time. He and Hephzie had to split in order to move into their own dorms, but they had a little date set for breakfast, so they bid each other good luck and departed. Ford was excited to have a roommate. He was used to sharing a room and was eager to make a friend on his first day of Backupsmore. According to the RA who gave him his key and other essentials, his roommate was also a science major and already moved in.

Ford got up to the top floor of the boys' dormitories and went to his assigned room. He took in a deep breath, let it out, and opened the door. "Hello! I'm yo…"

He froze when it looked like a man about his age was going to hit him over the head with a banjo. His eyes wide with confusion, he studied his roommate. He too had glasses, but they were smaller than Ford's and most likely used for reading. He had dirty-blond hair that was almost long enough to be pulled up into a ponytail if he wished, a long-sleeved green shirt, blue jeans with a belt with a big buckle, and boots that looked like they had come from the heart of Tennessee. Though he wore a face bracing for an attack, once he saw who Ford was he relaxed and had a kind softness to his face. Automatically, Ford's gut told him that he was a nice guy.

"Oh, shoot, m'bad. Imma little jumpy today. I thought ya were a cop." The young man said in a thick Southern accent as he readjusted his glasses. "Or a Reptilian. Ya know, them lizard men." The guy shrugged and added, "I think they're the ones that faked the moon landin'."

Ford relaxed and slowly said, "The… erm… wouldn't it have been more expensive to fake the entire operation than to actually land on the moon?"

The man blinked and Ford mentally kicked himself. Of course the first thing he did was correct his roommate. Well, maybe things were even since the guy just threatened to hit him over the head with a musical instrument.

Ford's roommate gave a hefty laugh that somehow swept his nerves away. The young man shook his head and said, "Ya got a good point, but just as ya got your views, n' I got mine."

"That's fair." Ford agreed with a smile and held out his hand, figuring it'd be best to get the obvious out of the way. "I'm Stanford Pines."

"Pleasure's all mine, Stanford." The other man said and shook Ford's hand. He noticed the extra finger, but didn't acknowledge it or cared. He only gave a smile which Ford was all too happy to return. "My name's Fiddleford Hadron McGucket."

* * *

 ** _August 18th, 1972_**

Stan had jinxed himself or something. That day at the races, he had been caught and chased out by an angry mob. He had stepped on a broken bottle and got a piece of glass caught in his foot, but the folks here wouldn't call the cops once Stan was caught. They'd take the law into their own hands, so Stan ran for his life until he lost them in a cornfield. And that was how he got the scar the side of his left foot.


	18. College

Ford and Fiddleford socialized pleasantly while they unpacked their luggage and got to know one another. That first night was how most first nights in a dorm were: each man was so careful not to step on the other man's toes that it was like the whole room was littered with eggshells, but in the end they were both comfortable and settled.

Ford's gut feeling about Fiddleford was correct. He was a pleasant guy who was just as nice as he could be without overdoing it. Maybe this was why so many people were charmed by Southern hospitality. Fiddleford had grown up on a hog farm with two older brothers, three younger brothers and a little sister. While one older brother was going to take over the hog farm and the other was working to open a shoe-cobbler store, Fiddleford was the first in his family to go to college, having quite the talent for machines and very hands-on science. Apparently he was the home-mechanic back home. He happily chatted away about his little brother, who was only a year younger than him and was aiming to go to college, too, and his little sister, the youngest McGucket sibling and arguably the toughest.

Ford listened intently and enjoyed hearing Fiddleford's stories, but when the time came for him to talk about the Pines family, he was quiet. This didn't bother Fiddleford too much; he knew that not everyone was as lucky as him to be so close to his family. However, when Ford had put a picture of himself with a pretty dark-skinned woman on his desk, both dressed up for prom, and Fiddleford had asked who the woman was, Ford happily told him about Hephzibah Cece, his childhood best friend and girlfriend.

The next day was Freshman Greetings Day. There would be special meetings for each major, a presentation given by the president of the school, additional tours and so forth. Ford and Fidddleford walked together down to the cafeteria where they found Hephzie waiting outside. Ford grinned and happily introduced his roommate to his girlfriend. They shook hands and became friends almost as quickly as Fiddleford and Ford did. Over pancakes and coffee, Hephzie mentioned her family's piano store, which got Fiddleford excited and started a long conversation about their shared love for music. Hephzie told him how she could play the piano, viola, and the harmonica, and Fiddleford mentioned his ability to play the banjo, a little bit of bass, and a mean pair of musical spoons.

Hephzie chuckled and asked, "What? Can't play the fiddle?"

Fiddleford laughed and held his head, but his laughter was more forced than his previous ones. "If I had a dollar for every time somebody made that joke, I'd be goin' here for free."

Hephzie shrugged apologetically and made a mental note to avoid fiddle-jokes; she'd think of something else to tease him about. Ford then asked Hephzie how her roommate situation was going and she laid her head and arms crossed on the table, her usual life-sucks-and-I-don't-wanna-talk-about-why position. Apparently, her roommate was a girl named Susi who's only reason for going to college was to find a man to marry. She was incredibly annoying, insulted Hephzie's looks the minute she came into the dorm, and had so much pink that it looked like someone had sprayed pepto-bismol all over the damn dorm. Ford could only chuckle at Hephzie's reaction and pat her back.

* * *

Ford's academic adviser looked at him like he was crazy, but ended up shrugging and approving his schedule. He'd just have to learn the hard way. The freshman grinned with pride and thanked his adviser. How many people can say their first semester of college covered sixty credit hours?

* * *

 ** _August 22nd, 1972_**

Hephzie checked out two books from the library. Fiddleford checked out five. Ford checked out twelve. And those would only last him the week.

* * *

 ** _August 26th, 1972_**

Since Ford spent so much time in the library studying, it only made sense to him to get a job there to cover necessities and start building a savings account. He found being an assistant librarian was very rewarding.

While Ford work at the library, Hephzie got a job at the campus coffee house. When she wasn't doing that or studying or hanging out with friends, she was volunteering at the hospital in San Francisco. Apparently the hospital and Backupsmore had a very strong connection, and after getting the report from the hospital in New Jersey and learning what an amazing volunteer Hephzie was, she was quickly hired to aid in the nursery.

Needless to say, both college students kept themselves very busy.

* * *

 ** _August 30th, 1972_**

Fiddleford sat at his lab alone. Everyone else had a partner, but not him, which was exactly what he wanted. No offense to the other students, but he took great pride in how advanced he was in robotics and other inventions and he didn't want to be slowed down or make anyone feel less intelligent by being his partner. He started to pull out his work as he waited for the go-ahead from the professor, but when Fiddleford's eyes found the professor, he was busy talking to a young woman. She looked like a freshman, but she could be a sophomore. Fiddleford pulled out some blue paper and started to think of how to approach this project.

"Mr. McGucket," Fiddleford looked up and smiled at the professor, who had the young lady with him. "This is Ms. Madeline Ingrid. She'll be your partner for the remainder of the semester."

Fiddleford smiled at her and she returned it. Madeline had blue jeans and a peach-colored puffy shirt that fitted with the latest fashion trends. Her hair was curly and her bangs were curled upward, like a cinnamon roll, and the rest of her soft brown locks were tied up in a ponytail. Fiddleford shook her hand and said,

"Nice t'meet ya, Madeline. My name's Fiddleford."

"Pleasure's all mine." She replied as she shook his hand. Fiddleford was pleasantly surprised to find that she had a Southern accent, too.

The professor turned to the class and loudly announced, "Alright, students, for this first project I simply want a model, not the legitimate invention or the prototype, but a simple model of your ideas. And textbooks or outside help is strictly forbidden. I want to see what you already know and what pure imagination can make."

After a few more procedures and a quick roll call, the class was free to work on their projects. They had spent the last class going over basic principles for sketching blueprints and had to read a book on it for homework. They now had this class and then two other classes to get their models done and could use whatever materials they wanted. Fiddleford could tell that Engineering was going to be his favorite class.

He turned to Madeline and was prepared to catch her up to his speed or have to teach her nearly everything, but he was pleasantly surprised when she took the white pen off the desk and started to work on the basics of the blueprint.

"So, whatcha ya wanna make?" She asked politely with a smile.

Fiddleford returned the smile and the brainstorming began.

* * *

 ** _September 2nd, 1972_**

Fiddleford needed a break. He had just finished homework for a couple of classes and only had two assignments left. He was at a good stopping point, and though he wasn't hungry, his bouncing knee told him that he was due for a walk. It was sunset and the air was warm and pleasant, as far as Fiddleford could tell from the open window, so he put his papers away, left the dorm, and locked the door behind him before setting off for a quick walk around campus. There was a fountain between the boys' dormitories and the girls' dormitories. Maybe he's just walk a lap around that to clear his head and vex out some energy.

The minute Fiddleford stepped outside he knew he made the right choice. It was quiet, but not silent. Warm, but not hot. Bright, bot not blinding. As he started towards the fountain with an iron globe on top, his ears caught some music. He walked towards the fountain, where he was sure the music was coming from, and walked around the water-attraction. Sitting with her ankles crossed and her instrument on her shoulder, Madeline was playing a fiddle. Fiddleford stood and listened to her play the long, soft notes. Her eyes were closed and was blissfully unaware of someone listening to her.

Getting an idea, Fiddleford ran back to his dorm, grabbed his banjo, and left again. Madeline was still there. Fiddleford cleared his throat to get her attention, and once he had it, he asked, "May I join ya, ma'am?"

Madeline saw the banjo in his hands and nodded. "Just jump in if ya can."

Fiddleford sat on the mountain's edge with Madeline and tuned his instrument. The young lady had already started a new song, one that Fiddleford recognized, so once he was ready, he jumped in and the two instruments harmonized.

* * *

 ** _September 3rd, 1972_**

Grandpa rocked in his chair while his wife sat quietly. He looked over at her as she stared at the wall blindly, sitting frail in her wheelchair, her mind slipping. The old pianist looked away and tried to play his viola again, but he didn't have the heart to right now. After a couple of cords, he paid the instrument on his lap and turned his attention to a photograph of his family that he had on the nightstand by his rocking chair.

It had been taken when Hephzibah was twelve-years-old, a few months before Grandma's stroke. They all stood together, smiling and happy. Their family was whole, but now it seemed so broken. It was Sunday, so Hephzie would have to call soon. She had promised to always call on Sundays, and so far she had kept that promise, but now it was almost nine and Hephzie still hadn't called. It was six over in California for her, so maybe she had been busy with friends and was having dinner right now. Grandpa tried to calm down and rocked in his chair as he thought about how much quieter this place had been ever since Hephzie left for college. He knew he wasn't alone. The other day Ma had mentioned how empty her house felt now that everyone was gone. What was once a loud, cheerful place was now too quiet for comfort. The Pines and the Ceces had been friends for a very long time and always enjoyed each other's company. A favorite pastime had been to sip coffee together and chat, but now their friendship grew stronger. Grandpa saw Ma nearly every day. She had always been so kind.

Grandpa's thoughts were interrupted when the phone rang. He grabbed it quickly and answered, "Cece household."

" _Hi, Grandpa!_ "

"Hephzibah," Grandpa breathed and rocked in his chair a little easier now. "Hey there, my little Half-Pint. How was your week?"

The entire conversation, Grandpa's chest felt lighter. He smiled the entire time as she talked about her classes and her new job at the coffee house. Soon Grandma became aware that Hephzie was on the phone and demanded to talk to her. Grandpa happily forked over the communication device and Grandma was delighted to listen to her granddaughter's voice for a few minutes before running out of energy and handing the phone back to Grandpa. For over an hour, they talked and it was like Hephzie had never left. It was only when Hephzie pointed out how late it was for her grandparents that they had to say goodbye.

When Grandpa hung up, he felt much more at ease, knowing his little girl was safe and happy, and he got up to take his wife to bed. He had just tucked her in and was about to prepare for bed himself when the phone rang again. Grandpa picked it up and saw that it was half an hour past ten now.

"Cece household."

" _Uh… hey, Mr. Cece._ "

Grandpa was shocked at first, but then chuckled. "Stanley, how many times have I gotta tell ya…"

" _Right, right, sorry, Grandpa_." The young man chuckled back.

Ever since the boys were eight-years-old, Grandpa had instructed them to call him "Grandpa" rather and stuck-up "Mr. Cece". Nearly everyone called him "Grandpa" now, and he wore that name like a badge of honor. If Grandpa was honest with himself, he saw the Pines twins as his own grandchildren. He had seen them grow up alongside Hephzie and was glad to hear from one of them, especially one that he had been worried about lately.

"How have ya been, son?" Grandpa asked.

" _I'm okay, sir. How are you?_ "

"I'm fine, thank ya for askin', Stanley."

" _So… I was wondering if you had Hephzie's new number_." Stan requested sheepishly.

Grandpa chuckled and pulled out his phonebook. "I sure do. Give me a… alright, I have it here. Ya ready?"

The old piano-store owner gave Stan the number and chatted for a minute, but soon let the boy go. Grandpa sighed peacefully to himself and was ready to lay down for the night.

* * *

Stan called Hephzie immediately after hanging up with Grandpa, but there was no answer. She must be out of the dorm. Stan decided that it was worth waiting for her and he entertained himself by watching TV in the trashy motel in Missouri. He tossed a cheap racket in his hand as he watched Cash Wheel late into the night. It was about midnight when Stan fell asleep in front of the TV and woke up when the phone rang at one in the morning. He picked it up and rubbed his eyes.

" _Stan?_ "

He grinned. It was weird to have someone call him Stan rather than… what was his name again? Steve? Or was it Steven? Oh, who cares. It was a good-weird to have an old friend call him "Stan" again.

"Hey, Hephzie!"

* * *

 ** _October 12th, 1972_**

Hephzie went home for Fall Break. It was only four days, including the weekend, but she had saved up some money from her job at the coffee house and wanted to surprise for grandparents. The look on Grandpa's face when she walked into the piano store was worth every penny.

* * *

 ** _October 31st, 1972_**

Halloween had always been a fun day for Ford, even if he hadn't been invited to single party or was usually picked on by bullies ("I didn't know Captain Brave had six fingers!"). In the past, the Mystery Twins had pulled pranks, gotten tons of candy using their twin-charm, and watched movies. This year, as a first, he got to attend a special Dungeons, Dungeons, and More Dungeons party with some other fans of the game on campus. He even dressed up as an elf for the occasion and was delighted to see other students dressed up as ogres, elves, Probabilitor the Annoying, and even Hephzie dressed up as Princess Unattainabelle.

It was one of those surreal moments when Ford whispered to himself with a cheeky grin, "I've found my people."

* * *

 ** _November 5th, 1972_**

It had been one year since they had kissed in that hospital room. It had been one year since they admitted about their feelings towards each other. It had been one whole year since Hephzie and Ford had gotten together. And so they decided to take a break from their studies and celebrate. They were broke college students and so they couldn't do much, but what they could do was order a pizza, watch their favorite movies together in Ford's floor-lobby and use the big TV, sit and snuggle in their PJs, and fall asleep. They had also exchanged gifts that night. Ford had gotten Hephzie a new peach cocktail dress and a book she had wanted to read. Hephzie got Ford the updated game of Dungeons, Dungeons, and More Dungeons.

* * *

 ** _November 6th, 1972_**

That Dungeons, Dungeons, and More Dungeons meeting, Ford managed to convince Fiddleford to join he and Hephzie. Fiddleford had a lot of fun and ended up being pretty good at the game. Obviously he wasn't as big of a fan as Ford, but he still enjoyed the game. If nothing else, he enjoyed watching Ford play, a huge grin on his face and a sparkle in his eyes one didn't often get to see. Fiddleford watched Hephzie, who was mostly watching Ford play.

Later, as they walked away from the meeting with him staying behind to chat, Hephzie and Fiddleford headed for the cafeteria for some dinner. "So, ya like Dungeons, Dungeons, n' More Dungeons?" Fiddleford asked.

Hephzie checked that Ford wasn't around and then said, "Actually… no. I can't stand that game. Too many rules for it to be fun."

Fiddleford blinked at her. "Then why have ya gone to every meetin' wit him?"

Hephzie looked at him like the answer was obvious. "Cuz Ford likes it. I mean, have ya seen his smile?"

Fiddleford laughed and knew that Hephzie was in the same boat as him.

* * *

 ** _November 13th, 1972_**

Ford spent a lot of time in the library. Hephzie preferred to study there too, but wasn't there nearly as much as her boyfriend. Maybe that's why it was a bit of a surprise to find her already in the library when Ford walked into his favorite room, but what was even more surprising was to find her huddled in a fetal position as she rocked on the floor. Her forehead was on her knees, her face hidden, and she seemed to be humming to herself so quietly that no one but the six-fingered freshman could hear her.

Ford sighed, a small smile on his face, and he dropped his bag, sat on the floor next to her, and rubbed her back until she slowly unraveled and was ready to get back to work.

* * *

 ** _November 15th, 1972_**

When Hephzie got to her dorm after a long day at work, she found a bouquet of tulips on her pillow. Her roommate pitched a fit, jealous that Hephzie had a man and she was still single. It took everything in Hephzie not to punch that bitch in the throat.

* * *

The holidays were less than fun.

* * *

 ** _January 25th, 1973_**

Hephzie walked into the library as she double checked her gold watch. It was almost one o'clock in the morning. She unzipped her black-leather jacket and sighed. She glanced around the main room and quietly walked on the old carpet over towards the back of the library, where shelves got more crowded and desks were stuck in between them. If Ford was still here studying, she was gonna drag him by the ear back to his dorm and force his ass to bed. Hephzie chuckled to herself quietly as she thought back to the few times she had pulled the boys by the ears. It was her secret weapon; she only used it as a last result, but often times that meant dragging each twin by the ear as they followed her out of trouble, moaning and begging for her to let go. Many times Ford accused her of being the reason they each grew up to have big ears.

And, just as the young woman with dreadlocks suspected, she found Ford at his favorite desk by a small window in the library, wearing a yellow sweater and dress shirt underneath to beat the cold, his head cushioned by his crossed arms as he laid on top of an open book, fast asleep. Next to him was some homework half-finished and he was surrounded by mountains of books and crushed-up paper. Hephzie sighed at his sleeping form, a small smile on her lips, and she silently walked over to where he sat and ran a soft hand through his brown hair. Ford stirred, but didn't wake up. The idea to spook him awake by throwing down some heavy books was tempting, but she decided to be nice and she started to rub his undoubtedly aching shoulders, pulling Ford from his sleep.

He hummed comfortably at receiving the massage and blinked his stiff eyes open as his consciousness started to function properly. He didn't need to look up to see who was rubbing his shoulders. Hephzie usually rubbed the knots out of his neck and shoulders. Ford smiled as he remembered how, ironically, he was horrible at giving massages and ended up doing more harm than good, but Hephzie expressed many times that she was totally okay with Ford not returning the favor; he must really suck at giving massages.

Sensing that he was awake, Hephzie whispered, "Do ya know what time it is?"

Ford couldn't shrug, his shoulders being rubbed by his girlfriend, but if he could have he would have. He glanced at the silver watch Hephzie had given him for his birthday and he said in a low voice, "1:09."

"Mm, hm." Hephzie sneered. "Way past someone's bedtime."

Her voice was cold and sent shivers up Ford's spine. He knew he was in trouble. This was the… Ford quickly counted all the time she had caught him "working too hard" in his head… sixteenth time he had worked himself to sleep in the library or on a desk. Shit. "My dear, do you know how many hours a person spends on sleep?"

"Well, most people have enough common sense to get seven hours of sleep." Hephzie said smartly, still stern with her boyfriend for pushing himself so far.

"It's scientifically recommended that human adults should get approximately eight hours of sleep." Ford stated plainly.

"Ya'd think a man of science would be game to follow facts."

"I said 'recommended', not 'necessary'." Ford reasoned calmly. "Eight hours is a third of a day. That's essentially one-third of our lives wasted on sleep."

"Wasted?" Hephzie repeated harshly. "Carin' for your own health is a waste of time? Relaxin' n' allowin' your body n' mind to recharge is a waste of time?"

Ford saw where he messed up and backtracked. "That's not… Sleeping when it is unnecessary is a waste, my dear."

"Right," Hephzie said and Ford could've sworn she rolled her eyes at his statement. "Well, don't ya think it's a necessity at this time to get some shut-eye."

"I just did." Ford said as he sat up - Hephzie removed her hands so he could move freely - and he stretched his arms over his head. "Another cup of coffee and I'm fine."

"Stanford." Hephzie growled.

"Hephzibah." Ford retaliated.

"Ugh! What's a woman gotta do, climb into bed with ya?!" Hephzie yelled, her patience wearing thin, but the minute she said it she put a hand to her mouth and stared out into space.

Ford turned to look at her and pressed his mouth closed to keep from laughing at the look on her face. He cleared his throat and them hissed, "Is that an offer?"

"Stanford!"

"You said it, not me."

Ford chuckled at her reddening face. If looks could kill, the young man would have died in that chair. After dating for over a year, they had talked about a lot of things, one of them being sex. Ford didn't really see the appeal and Hephzibah's religiously believed to wait until marriage, so they were both happy staying virgins for the time being. That made situations - such as these - much more fun for Stanford.

At Hephzie's hardening face, Ford shook his hands and chuckled, "Alright, alright, I'll go to bed."

"'Bout time." Hephzie growled, tired herself and not in the mood.

Ford packed up his things and walked with Hephzie to the exit of the library. She may be a little sore at her boyfriend at the moment, but that didn't mean she wasn't going to let him hold her hand as they walked to the dormitories.

* * *

 ** _February 14th, 1973_**

Ford had finished three-fourths of the classes needed to earn a PhD. He was so close he could almost taste it and he'd be damned if he didn't at least try to go from undergraduate to PhD three years ahead of schedule. That meant he was too busy to spend Valentine's Day with Hephzie, which was more than fine by her, seeing how she had picked up a double-shift at the coffee house for all the students going out on cheap dates for the holiday. Ford may have been busy, but not too busy to notice the roses on Fiddleford's desk when the polydactyl college student walked into the dorm that night.

"Whoa, where did you obtain the flowers?"

Fiddleford turned in his chair and shrugged at his friend. "They were at the doorstep when I found 'em. Nothing but my name on 'em."

Ford smirked, having a good idea who sent them, but decided to keep his thoughts to himself.

* * *

 ** _March 16th, 1973_**

Ford sat on his bed reading a book. He had the top bunk, so he got a good view of his roommate as he finished packing up for Spring Break and headed out.

With a suitcase in his hand, Fiddleford called up, "I'll see ya next Sunday, Ford!"

"Have a great break, buddy!"

Fiddleford opened the door, waved goodbye, and left. Ford returned to his book and didn't even look up when someone knocked. He first thought it might be Fiddleford - maybe he forgot something - but then it appeared that whoever knocked was expecting an answer.

Too lazy and comfortable to get off the bed, Ford called, "Enter."

To his surprise, Hephzie ran in, closed the door behind her and looked up at him with tears running down her face. His eyes widened at this and he quickly climbed down. Hephzie never cried, never! And here she was, tears rolling down her cheeks heavily like a waterfall.

He grabbed her by the shoulders and begged, "Hephzibah, what's wrong? What happened?"

Before she even opened her mouth to speak, a thought came to his mind. He had dreaded this happening to her for a long time and he had mentally prepared himself on what to do when the day came.

"I-I-It's Grandma…" Hephzie stuttered.

Ford brought her into a tight hug and she returned it. He had never heard her sob before, never in all the years he had known her, but now she wailed onto his shoulder freely and held him tightly. Hephzie's whole body trembled in his hold, her fingers clang onto Ford's green sweater-vest. Her sobs tore his heart in two and he found that his eyes stung slightly at hearing the woman he loved in so much pain. And there was nothing Ford could do about it.


	19. Grief

**March 18th, 1973**

Ford had never attended a funeral before. Wait… yes, he had. He can remember going to New York for his Uncle Jack's funeral. He had been only eleven-years-old, but Ford can remember how sad he was when Uncle Jack died and what a good man he was. He didn't do much outside of work as a detective, but he was a fun guy with a smile always on his face, candy in his pockets, and a cigarette behind his ear. Ford wondered if his heavy smoking had a hand in his early death. No, now wasn't the time to think about his deceased uncle. Ford had to focus on the funeral he was attending now.

He wore a suit Ma had given to him as a graduation present and stood at the entrance with his family, eager to find Hephzie and be there for her. On the plane ride home she had been quiet and hardly said a word, staring out the window and watching the view without seeing it. When they had landed, Ma had picked them up and given Hephzie a firm hug. When they arrived at the piano store, Grandpa held his only family left and she chatted with him about only pleasant things as they walked inside. Now, Ford stood with Ma, Pa, Shermie, Daisy and Alex, all dressed in their finest black attire.

They were having the funeral at the local church, the same church Hephzie and her family had gone to ever since they moved to Glass Shard Beach. It was a little church right in the middle of town and next to a cemetery. Ford had only been here once before, and that was to hear Hephzie sing the Christmas before last. Remembering where the worship hall was, he looked into the room and saw that there was indeed a coffin, a portrait of Georgina Cece, and a small group of people already there to attend the funeral. Standing by the coffin was Grandpa and Hephzie, also dressed in their finest black clothes.

Ford led the way into the room and prepared to give his condolences. Grandma wore her best dark-purple dress as she laid in her coffin, red and white roses in her hands. Roses had been her favorite flower and the whole worship hall was decorated with them and black drapes. Hephzie shook the hands of an old couple that also went to the church before seeing the Pines family. She wanted to smile and thank them, but she was empty of all emotion.

Ford reached her, grabbed her hand and squeezed it. "I'm so sorry, Hephzibah." He said quietly. He had said that a lot the past two days.

"Thank ya, sweetheart." Hephzie replied and hugged him. He hugged her back and hoped that it would bring her some form of comfort.

Meanwhile, Ma offered Grandpa a hug, which he accepted, and he shook Pa's hand. "George, I truly am sorry for your loss." Pa said.

"Thank ya kindly, Fil." Grandpa croaked. "Ya as well, Caryn. Y'all have… always been good friends to us… it meant a lot to my wife… n' me…"

Ma nodded. "She was a good friend, one of the best I ever had. A wonderful woman."

After Hephzie and Ford stopped hugging, Shermie patted Hephzie's back with his wife by his side. Alex squirmed in his mother's arms and made grabby-hands for his Auntie Hephzie. She chuckled and held out her arms for the one-year-old. "C'mere, Lil'Lex. Ya missed me?"

Daisy handed her son over and Alex giggled, "Ez! Ez!"

Hephzie hugged the toddler and he wrapped his chubby arms around her neck. Tears threatened to spill over, but she was too stubborn to let them. She had done her crying with Ford and was determined not to do anymore, at least not in front of someone. Too soon, Alex squirmed for his mother and Daisy took him back. Then the toddler decided he was done being hold, so Daisy settled with letting him stand as she held his hand. He had taken his first steps back in October and now could walk a few decent steps if he had help. Hephzie looked down at him with stinging eyes and a trembling lip. Seemed like only yesterday the twins were exhausted from tending to a newborn, and now here he was, almost a year-and-a-half-old and saying basic words like "Mama" "Dada" "No" "Yeah" and even "For" and "Ez".

A few minutes later and the crowd took their seats. Grandpa and Hephzie sat in the front row and the Pines sat in the row behind them, all except for Ford; Hephzie had requested that he sit with her, so he held her hand and sat on her right side, her grandfather on her left. The pastor stood at the front and announced that, to pay their respects to a faithful member of the choir for many years, the choir was going to lead them in worship. So the crowd stood as the choir filed out into the rows up on the stage behind the coffin and led them in song.

Ford didn't know how Hephzie grieved. She had never lost. Well, that's not true. She had lost so much for someone so young. She never knew her father, her mother had left her, and just recently her best friend had disappeared. When Stan was gone, after the adrenaline to find him was all out, Hephzie had been silent. She usually hummed when she worked, much like how Stan would sing whatever he was doing ("Doing the dishes, doo dee doo doo, stacking the plates, doo lee doo doo." "Singing the drivin' song, rather hit a tree, than have to get where we're goin'."), but for a few days, Hephzie didn't sing or hum. The world had a silent Hephzie, and it didn't feel right. Now, it was happening all over again, but much worse. While most people in the hall sang out their sadness, Hephzie kept her head low and her lips tightly shut. Ford gave her hand a gentle squeeze and respected her silence. He just hoped it wouldn't last long.

After another two songs, the pastor gave permission to sit and the crowd did. The pastor then gave a quick sermon about death and how with God everyone's alive and what-not. Ford really didn't pay attention. He remembered, when he and Stan attended the Christmas service, they had been entertained by the interactive audience, who would "mm, hm" and "amen" and applaud every time the pastor spoke. It happened again here, but more solemnly. A few "mm, hm"s and "amen"s would fly around, but no clapping, no cheering, no joy in hearing the pastor.

He then later moved onto Georgina Cece's life and what a wonderful person she had been. Ford tuned the pastor out as he thought about the woman he had seen as his own grandmother. It didn't hurt nearly as much as it hurt the Ceces, but Ford was still saddened by Grandma's death. Before her stroke, she was a strict woman whom always resembled a chicken in Ford's eyes: always wearing reds and yellows and oranges and squawking. She was nice enough, but she held her ground and couldn't let people know she cares, much like Stan. After getting to know the twins, she had always offered them cookies ("Can't let choo starve, choo little trouble-makers."), backed them up ("I don't know how choo got those two boys to confess, but those two didn't touch that cow's skin full o' cash!"), and had been kind in other ways. She had even let the boys sleep over once when their parents needed to leave town and they didn't want a babysitter, but that had been when they were boys and Grandma's mental health was still good. But even as her mind deteriorated, she was kind and sweet. Sure, she often told Ford he needed a haircut and may or may not have asked Stan why he had the Appalachian mountains on his face (Stan's acne wasn't the greatest as a teenager), but she was a sweet old lady in her last few years, and it hurt a little when she finally forgot the twins' names.

Ford looked over at his girlfriend. Hephzie was actually paying attention to the pastor as he talked about her grandmother. Ford rubbed her hand with his thumb and she leaned against him, her head on his shoulder, as she listened to the sermon. Without moving his head, Ford averted his eyes to Grandpa. He was staring at his hands, which were entangled, his elbows on his knees and his head down, as if in prayer.

A few more minutes and the choir led the room with one more song, and then there was a tiny parade to the cemetery outside of the church. Ford held Hephzie's hand the whole time. The gravediggers first prayed over the closed coffin, then slowly lowered it into the newly dug grave before filling it back up with the fresh dirt. A small plaque was already at the head on the grave, a blank spot for when Grandpa's time came.

When the grave was filled, when the diggers were done and moved aside to pay their respects, when the sun was blocked by rolling clouds, that's when Grandpa broke. He had tried to keep it together for his dignity, for his granddaughter, but he couldn't do it anymore and no one expected him to. He covered his eyes with one hand and began to quietly cry. Hephzie let go of Ford to hold her grandfather. A single tear escaped her eye at seeing her father-figure so heartbroken.

Ford blinked until his eyes were dry again, then he took in a deep breath and did everything he could for Hephzie from then on.

* * *

 **March 19th, 1973**

Hephzie didn't make any effort to see Ford, and he didn't visit her. He knew she needed to be alone.

* * *

 **March 20th, 1973**

Ford didn't see Hephzie all day. Grandpa had the strength to join Ma for some coffee in the afternoon, like he always did, but when Ford asked about Hephzie, the old piano-store owner assured the young man that she would be okay.

* * *

 **March 21st, 1973**

This was childish and stupid and Ford couldn't believe he was doing it, but they had done it for years. He was taller now than when he was a kid, so he was only two feet short from his head reaching her window. He climbed up to it, knocked on the glass, and waited for her to open it. Hephzie looked unhealthy; their were bangs under her eyes, her dreadlocks were down from their ponytail and unkept, she wore pajamas, and she seemed paler. No, it must just be her depression seeping through her dark skin.

"Hey," Ford said softly. "Are you alright?"

Hephzie nodded, her eyes down at her crossed arms, not on Ford.

"Have you eaten today?" He asked quietly.

Hephzie shook her head.

"Have you eaten since the funeral?" Ford asked, but now that he had come to think about it, she didn't even eat at the funeral dinner after Grandma had been buried.

Hephzie shook her head again.

"You need to keep up your strength, my dear." Ford said kindly. He wasn't scolding her or sounded mad. He sounded sad for her.

Hephzie nodded again.

"Alright," Ford muttered and was prepared to leave her alone. "Alright, I'll…"

"Stanford," Hephzie finally said, overlapping the hand that was on the windowsill and looking at him with dull eyes. "Will ya c'min?"

Ford nodded and climbed into her bedroom. She sat on the bed, wearing her baby-pink sweats, and let her boyfriend close the window behind him. He finally sat next to her and waited for her to speak. She was silent, and stayed that way, so Ford talked to her. Just talked. He chatted away quietly about everything happy under the sun, recalling childhood stories, ranting about college-issues, guessing the weather. Comforted by his deep, smooth voice, Hephzie laid her head on Ford's shoulder and closed her eyes. She didn't even know she had fallen asleep until she woke up the next morning, tucked into bed.

* * *

 **March 22nd, 1973**

Stan now lived in South Carolina, making money on a beach, a big tourist town, by selling sunscreen. He had gotten gallons of this stuff super cheap and sold it to tourist desperate not to get sunburned. With Spring Breaks rolling around and the weather getting warmer, this was a great cash grab.

He called Ma that night and asked what was wrong when he caught the sadness in her voice. She only sighed and said that after they were finished talking, Stan should call Hephzie's home phone. After a few minutes of hearing Ma's usual gossip and news on the family, Stan called Hephzie's phone. It rang and rang for the longest time, until finally someone picked up.

"Cece household."

"Hephzie?" Stan asked, recognizing her voice, but it sounded weak.

"Stan." Hephzie said, this time sounding better. Stan smiled and had a hunch why suddenly she sounded a little happier. "Hey. It's… it's so good to hear from ya. How's South Carolina? Ya still doin' okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." Stan answered casually as he glanced over at the Stanmobile through the payphone booth's glass. "Business is good. Are you okay, though? You sound like someone died." Stan asked with a chuckle, hoping that it would make Hephzie feel better.

There was silence on the other line. Stan felt uneasy and tried to think of what was wrong. Did Sixer break her heart? Because Stan didn't care if he was banned from New Jersey, if someone had hurt Hephzie, they were gonna pay with their lives, even if they were his own brother. It'd give Stan a good reason to punch Poindexter in the face, anyways.

"Stan… someone did." Hephzie muttered and he felt like a large rock had dropped in his stomach. If now was a time to jump off a cliff, or drown in the sea, or break his neck, now was the time. He done fucked up real good. "Grandma passed away a few days ago." Hephzie added in a voice that sounded so heartbroken.

Stan's hand dripped the phone tighter. "Hephzie… I'm so sorry. I didn't mean… you know I'd never…"

"No, it's okay, Stanley." Hephzie replied quietly. "Ya didn't know, it's okay."

"No, it's not okay." Stan said firmly. "Look, are you okay? Have you been eating? How's Grandpa?"

"Stan, for Lord's sake," Hephzie said to cease the heavy flow of questions. "We're both okay. I'll admit it, I haven't eaten much since she died… well, okay, at all, really… but Ford made me eat some soup not too long ago."

Stan hated the fact that he ate more today than she has. And he's has days where he was too poor to eat! "Hephzie, you gotta eat. You gotta keep up your strength, and…" Stan stopped when he heard her giggling on the other line. He smiled slyly at hearing her laugh, even if it was weak. "Whatcha laughing at?" He asked cheekily.

"Nothin', it's just… Ford said the exact same thang when he learned I wasn't eatin'."

Stan felt weird about what Hephzie said. He had caught her hesitation, but she still chose to point it out. Yes, they were twins and therefore bound to be similar, but it still hurt. He cleared his throat and decided to check up on Sixer the same way he always did. "So… is he treating you right?" He checked as he played with the phone cord. "He still good to you?"

"Of course he is." Hephzie answered. If she knew that this was Stan's way of checking up on his brother, she didn't let Stan know that and he was grateful for that. "He's been nothin' but supportive through this whole thang. Just yesterday he simply talked to me until I fell asleep. So hypocritical of him, to worry over me for not sleepin' when I've caught him goin' without sleep for three days!"

Stan listened as Hephzie chatted about the little struggles she faced as Ford's girlfriend, her plans for the summer, her excitement that the semester was almost over, and occasional stories about Grandma. Her voice was rusty, like she had been silent for so long that now her voice seemed unsure of what to do, but Stan just happily listened like he always did. Up until she brought up her concerns for Grandpa of leaving him alone in the piano store.

"Listen, Stan," Hephzie said seriously and Stan braced himself. His instinct told him to run, but he ignored it to listen to his only friend left in the whole world. "I know… I know it'd be hard, n' I understand if ya don't wanna leave South Carolina, but… but ya know, Grandpa has always been very fond of ya. What if… what if ya kept my bed warm n' gave a helpin' hand? Ya know, ran the deliveries, helped manage the books, that kind of stuff. We can't pay well, but at least ya'd be home n' safe. Now I totally get it if ya don't want to," Hephzie quickly added, but then went on with a pleading tone. "But please consider it. I… I miss ya."

Her grief must have made her delusional, clouded her judgment and made her ask for something she's wanted for almost a year. Her plan sounded nice, but as much as Stan hated to let her down again, he sighed and said, "Hephzibah, I'm sorry but… I can't."

"Why not?"

"Cuz… cuz…" Stan tried to think of a good lie, but what the hell? He could come clean. Besides, who was she gonna tell, anyways? "Cuz I'm banned from New Jersey."

"Banned from…" Hephzie said slowly, and then gave a dry laugh. "Why does that not surprise me?"

Stan rubbed his neck and chuckled. "Heh, yeah, well… whatcha gonna do?"

"Do I even wanna know how ya managed to pull that off?"

"Nope."

"I'll trust ya, then."

"Bad idea, sis." Stan let slip.

"I don't care. I'm still gonna trust my best friend." God, Stan loved it when she called him that.

And Stan will never know how much that phone call helped Hephzie's recover from her grief. The next day, she was more talkative and when she did the dishes after dinner, Grandpa smiled with tears in his eyes when he could hear her hum to herself.


	20. Madeline

**_August 30th, 1972_**

Maddie walked down the hall alone. Everyone else knew where to do or what to do, but not her, which was to be expected when she started the semester a week late. What can she say, she enrolled a little late. She had been hesitant to go to college at all, but Backupsmore seemed like a good place to figure out what she wanted to do for a career. It was far from home, so it'd give her some experience going to a new place, and thanks to never knowing her parents, she got a terrific scholarship that meant she was practically going to school for free. All she had to do was pay for books, room and board. Maddie could get a Marketing degree to better help her uncle's car-repair shop for now, but really the job didn't excite her. Oh well, she'll figure it out.

Maddie walked into the science lab and she scanned the room for the professor. She found him at his desk, preparing for the class, and she went up and introduced herself. The professor was cooperative and gave her the syllabus and quickly explained what they would be doing in this Robotic class. Excited and eager to get started, the professor introduced her to her new lab partner.

He had light brown hair and small reading glasses. He wore a puffy green shirt and when he smiled, there was an air of kindness around him. Madeline smiled back and let the professor introduce her.

"Mr. McGucket, this is Ms. Madeline Ingrid. She'll be your partner for the remainder of the semester."

They shook hands and soon they got straight to work. The whole time, Maddie smiled as she helped sketch the blueprint and she felt smart having to work with Fiddleford, who clearly was very advanced in this field of study. Plus, it was nice to have a friend.

* * *

 ** _September 21st, 1972_**

They didn't hang out as much as Fiddleford and Ford did, but they still saw each other and had a good time. They'd eat lunch and socialize, study if they happened to be in the same room, even play music together. Maddie was smart, kind, strong, and beautiful. She knew how to stand her ground and she was independent, a stern tongue in her mouth and ready any time. As their friendship grew, Fiddleford would later introduce Maddie to Ford and Hephzie, his roommate and his roommate's girlfriend. Maddie enjoyed Ford's company enough and became quick friends with Hephzie when one day she pulled out her golden harmonica and began to play while sitting under a willow tree.

"You play?!" Maddie gasped happily.

Hephzie lowered the little instrument from her lips and smiled. "Yeah, ever since I was a kid."

Maddie jumped up. "Hold on…" And then she ran.

Hephzie shrugged and continued to play her instrument, the calm autumn hair blowing softly while she sat on the grass by Ford's side as he read a book. Fiddleford was tinkering with a Cubic's Cube and sitting on the stone bench by them. Not too long after Maddie ran off for the girl's dormitories, she ran back with a violin case in her hands. Hephzie stopped playing and perked up, instantly reminded of her grandfather's case that held his viola, Helen. It brought a sense of nostalgia and Maddie laid it on the stone bench to pull out a fiddle.

"Ya play?!" Hephzie exclaimed.

"Ever since I was yeh big." Maddie said and held her hand to her hip. She sat next to Fiddleford on the bench and tuned her instrument. She then immediately jumped into a song, one that Hephzie recognized, and she joined in.

Soon the air was filled with the beautiful music of the harmonica and the fiddle. Maddie smiled the whole time she bounced her knee and played. At one point, Fiddleford walked off and came back with his banjo. Together, they all played. Leaving Ford to simply smile and enjoy the music while he read his book.

Maddie grinned from ear-to-ear, for it was at that moment that she decided that coming to Backupsmore was worth it. She had found her people.

* * *

Over the last few weeks, Maddie got to know Fidddleford a little better. Apparently he was from Tennessee, too, having been raised on a hog farm outside of Athens with a huge, poor family. Maddie was raised by her aunt and uncle in Waverly. Her uncle was a mechanic, so Maddie had a few smarts about engineering and robotics and tools. Not as much as Fiddleford, but still a reasonable amount. Maddie proved to be a great extra pair of hands, passing tools, giving a second opinion and holding a piece in place. She was also quite good at sketching blueprints and asking challenging questions. When their project for the quarter was done, they were proud when they got an A+.

* * *

 ** _February 9th, 1973_**

While walking towards his next class, Fiddleford saw a student underneath a professor's truck. He didn't cease his walking, but he kept watching until the student got up from under the truck, showing that it was Maddie. She wiped her sweaty forehead, leaving a dar grease stain on her forehead under her curled bangs, and she gave the professor the go-ahead to try out the vehicle. Both the professor and Fiddleford were impressed to hear the truck's engine roar as strong as ever. The professor and Maddie shook hands before the young woman picked up her backpack and headed for the girls' dormitories for a well-earned shower.

* * *

During the summer, the four friends went their separate ways. Hephzie was going back home to Glass Shard Beach and was going to be busy working all summer. Fiddleford's family had invited Ford over for the summer, so rather than return to his own family, Ford was going to be with Fiddleford. Maddie was heading back to Waverly to work for her aunt and uncle.

At dinner the first night home, she excitedly told her guardians about college and what a great freshman year she had. While her uncle washed the dishes, her aunt gave her a funny look. "What?"

"Ya've been talkin' an awful lot about that Fiddleford feller of yours."

Maddie rolled her eyes. It was a fun joke her aunt like to use, setting the young lady up with just about any man. "It's not like I lay awake at night thinkin' about him. He's just a good friend."

Later that night, Maddie found herself lying awake, thinking about Fiddleford, but only for a few minutes. Still, she couldn't help but mutter to herself, "Uh, oh."

* * *

 ** _August 21st, 1973_**

Both Hephzie's and Maddie's roommates dropped out of Backupsmore, so they moved into a dorm together for their sophomore year of college. They actually got along really well, and for the first time, Hephzie was delighted to have a roommate.

* * *

 ** _October 4th, 1973_**

Fiddleford had a class to get to so he had to leave dinner early, and Hephzie was at work, so that left Ford and Maddie alone in the cafeteria. Maddie watched Ford eat his vegetable soup for a moment before getting up the courage to talk to him.

"Hey, Ford," He looked up to show that she had his attention. "Does… when… when did ya know ya liked Hephzie?" Maddie decided to ask.

Ford was somewhat used to people assuming he was a dating expert just because he had a girlfriend. He may have a PhD, but that didn't mean he knew anything about romance. Honestly, he believed that it was dumb luck that he even had a girlfriend. Still, he gave Maddie's question some thought and then answered with, "Well… during our senior year of high-school, she was hit by a truck."

Maddie nodded, remembering when Hephzie mentioned it off-handed once.

"I was terrified of losing her. I couldn't imagine my life without her in it. She's always been there. And it was then that I realized how much I cared about her. You never realize how much you love someone until their gone, or until you're threatened with them being gone." Ford concluded and then added, "Why do you ask?"

Maddie shrugged. That was a lie; she knew why she had asked, but she wasn't ready to tell Ford that much. "I was just wonderin'."

Ford settled for that and sipped his cup of coffee. Soup and coffee didn't make a great combination, but he intended to pull another all-nighter and he needed the caffeine. Maddie munch on her roll in thought, and just when Ford was about to toss his napkin in his bowl and get up, she asked in a timid voice,

"Does… does Fiddleford ever talk 'bout me?"

It didn't take a genius to put two and two together. Ford shook his head and had no desire to get stuck in the middle. "Nope. Not going to answer."

"What?" Maddie asked. "Oh, c'mon!"

"No, I will not 'come on'!" Ford scolded lightly. "Look, why don't you talk to Fiddleford yourself?"

Maddie blushed deeply and muttered, "Cuz… cuz what if he doesn't like me back?"

"At least you won't have to worry about it and you can move on." Ford stood up and concluded with, "Just tell him. One way or another you'll feel much better afterwards."

Maddie sighed and crossed her arms over her chest as she laid back in her chair while Ford walked away. It was official; Stanford Pines gave the worst dating advice on the planet.

* * *

 ** _November 29th, 1973_**

Maddie tried to think rationally. She didn't want to be like the other girls her age who had already dropped out of Backupsmore so they could get married and have a family. She knew she didn't want that. And she also knew that Fiddleford was a good person whom she had a lot in common with and everything they hung out together her face would feel hot, grow a smile, and her gut would twist like a cinnamon roll.

Unfortunately, Maddie chose the worst time in the world to drop hints of her growing affections towards Fiddleford. She dropped hints of how she felt (some more obvious than others), but Fidddleford was oblivious to it all, far too stressed and focused on his classes as the semester was coming to a close. Maddie eventually gave up and decided to try again after the holidays.

* * *

 ** _January 16th, 1974_**

By now, Maddie had gotten used to the fact that Fiddleford didn't like her the same way she liked him. She had her chance to be miserable about it over the Winter Break and now she had okay with it. It still hurt a little and she still liked him, but she could live with them being just friends.

* * *

 ** _January 20th, 1974_**

Fiddleford looked up from his homework when he sensed that someone was nearby. Hephzie, wearing her black work-apron, was wiping tables in the little coffee house. Fiddleford like to work there sometimes, chatting with Hephzie occasionally and enjoying the jazz that played over the speakers, and with his mind far from his work, he decided to take a break and talk to her.

"Hey, Hephzibah," She looked up at Fiddleford when he spoke as she wiped a table clean with a wet rag. "Does… how… when did ya know ya liked Stanford?"

Hephzie pulled up a chair across from Fiddleford and sat in it with the back by her chest. She rested her arms on it and gave the question some thought. "It was our senior year. I had liked him for a long time before that, but I didn't know if I liked him as a really close friend or… or more. I had never felt this way 'bout anyone. But then, one day, we kissed in the town's library to get our first kiss outta the way. My gut squirmed like there were rattlesnakes in there n' I never wanted the kiss to end, but it did. I tried to tell myself that I liked the kiss, not Ford, but my feelin's didn't go away. In fact, they got stronger. Every time he smiled, everytime he was with his little nephew, everytime he patted my back or was just himself, I had that feelin'. I didn't want to tell him n' ruin what we had, so I kept my mouth shut, until Ford started to tell me how I felt after I got hit by that damn truck."

Fiddleford nodded, remembering that part of the story. "So… ya knew ya liked him based on your gut?"

"Pretty much." Hephzie said with a shrug. "But if Ford had never told me how he felt, I would've never had the guts to tell him how I felt. Well, okay, maybe eventually I would've broke n' told him, but the point is, if ya like Maddie, ya should tell her how ya feel."

"It ain't that easy, Hephzie, n' besides, what if she…" Fiddleford stopped and stared at Hephzie while she played with the damp rag in her hands. "How'd ya know?"

"Please, I've wanted y'all to get together for over a year." Hephzie said with a smile as sly as a fox. "Just be honest. That's the best thang ya can do."

Fiddleford swallowed, making his Adam's Apple bobble, and he nodded to show he understood. Hephzie got back to work, leaving the young man alone with his thoughts.

* * *

 ** _February 28th, 1974_**

That day, Fiddleford done fucked up.

* * *

 ** _March 2nd, 1974_**

"Maddie, talk t'me. What's wrong?"

But Maddie just walked away, her lip quivering and her eyes full of tears. She had been chatting with Hephzie outside when Fiddleford found them. Hephzie headed for class, leaving Maddie alone to try to ignore Fiddleford.

"I want t'help ya, but I can't if ya don't tell me what's the matter." Fiddleford reasoned and moved a hand towards her, but she only took a faster step away, head held high and eyes closed as she tried to ignore him.

Normally, Fiddleford would respect a lady when she wanted to be left alone, but Maddie was so upset that it frightened the young man. Had someone hurt her? Was a family member hurt? Or was she simply stressed by her academics? Regardless, Fiddleford was concerned for the woman he… well, he knew he liked her a lot, so he knew he had to do something.

Fiddleford grabbed her arms and walked around her to face her, seeing the tears in the corner of her eyes and the look of fury on her face. "Listen t'me, Maddie. Whatever it is, ya can tell me. I'm here for ya."

"Pfft! Here for me?!" Maddie repeated with a bitter laugh, making Fiddleford let go of her. "Huh, that's funny, cuz I distinctly remember ya sayin' 'Maddie, I don't like ya that way! Now leave me alone! I've got better thangs t'do!'"

Fidds blinked at her and held his chin, utterly confused. "Odd. I don't recall sayin' anythang like that…" Oh wait… oh, Sweet Lord Above, he messed up big time! Fiddleford remember it now. He had been studying in the coffee shop late into the night, taking a leaf out of Ford's book to get some work done, and Maddie had tried to cheer him up. Fiddleford had lost his patience when he missed up an equation for the third time and he had snapped. "Oh… that." Fiddleford rubbed his neck and began to blush as he laughed nervously. "Heh, well there's a funny story…" He cleared his throat and then admitted, "I lied."

"Ya... lied?" Maddie asked, exaggerating the sinful word, the tears now gone from her eyes.

"Okay, that sounded bad!" Fiddleford said as he tried to wave his mistake away with his hand. "What I meant t'say was that I didn't lie, but I didn't tell the truth, either."

"So ya lied." Maddie stated skeptically.

"I said I didn't lie!" Fiddleford repeated, crossing his arms. "I-I just didn't tell the truth, neither." He added in a futile attempt to make Maddie's frustrations go away.

That failed miserably. "AUGH! Fiddleford, that is lyin'!"

Fiddleford sighed and tapped his pointer fingers together nervously. God Almighty, help him get out of this one without having a woman mad at him. He had been raised to believe that nothing was worse than having a lady mad at you, and Fiddleford had seen plenty of evidence that proved it to be true. "I know, I know… I just thought it'd sound better if I said it that way."

"How does that sound any better?"

"Oh, I don't know!" Fiddleford was drowning. Someone throw this poor man a raft or something, please! "All I know is that there's a reason why I acted the way I did. Not a very good reason, I'll admit, but a reason nonetheless." He explained.

Maddie shrugged as she looked up at the baby-blue sky. If there was a reason, fine, she'll hear him out. "Okay, so what is it?"

Fiddleford's train of thought fell off a bridge. "W-What?"

"What's the reason, Fiddleford?!" Maddie demanded.

"I-I… I… uh…" Fiddleford stuttered and his eyes darted from left to right to try to find a way out. The lying had nearly cost him, so if he was gonna have to talk his way out of this problem, it would have to be the truth. He swallowed to try to settle his nerves and then he said nervously, "Well… I hadn't slept well the night before, I'd had a long day, I was tired n' stressed when ya came by, but that's no excuse t'yell at ya, n' I'm sorry!" He quickly added, but went on. "I wasn't thinkin' clearly n' I treated ya in a way that I shouldn't've, n' I'm sorry, but you'll find, Madeline, that people do stupid thangs when they really really like someone!" Fiddleford spat out and then slapped his hand over his mouth. Lord have mercy on his soul.

Maddie blinked, her whole face turning pink, and her anger was gone now, too. "Ya… w-what? Ya… ya like me?"

Fiddleford scratched the back of his hand nervously and scrunched his eyes closed as he nodded.

Maddie's face turned even redder and she held her arms over her chest. "Well… good… then… cuz… cuz I like ya, too."

Fiddleford opened his eyes and stared at her. "Oh… good…"

* * *

 ** _March 9th, 1974_**

Fiddleford and Maddie went out on their first date. They went out to lunch and then went and saw the San Francisco Museum of Pretty Art. When they came back to campus, Ford and Hephzie were sitting underneath their favorite tree, with Ford's head in Hephzie's lap as they both read books. They had seen Fiddleford and Maddie holding hands as they walked past the willow tree, and Ford said,

"It took Fiddleford and Madeline half of our sophomore year for them to follow my advice."

"Ya too, hu?" Hephzie asked and looked back down at her book.

* * *

 **A/N: I would like to give a shout-out to the amazing, talented, sweet, adorable, most angelic creature on the planet, MissInspi over at DeviantArt! She allowed me to use her amazing OC, Madeline Ingrid, and I am thrilled to have her in my fic! PLEASE for the love of GOD give this gurl some love! GO SHOW HER SOME MUCH DESERVED LOVE!**


	21. Planning

**_April 28th, 1976_**

Stan double checked that the coast was clear before quickly dialing the number. He had plenty of quarters for a nice, long, overdue conversation. He wasn't sure if he would make it on time, but he had always called Hephzie on her birthday, always. He may have changed a lot over the last four years, from his five o'clock shadow to his overgrown hair, but his determination hadn't wavered.

He only had to wait for it to ring once before she picked up.

" _Hello?_ "

"Happy Birthday, Hephzibah!" Stan said in the most cheerful tone his gruff voice could muster. His bloodshot eyes darted to the glass door to triple check that it was locked.

" _Oh my God, Stanley!_ " Hephzie cheered, making Stan smile. How long has it been since he heard her voice? He had been in prison for six months before busting out, but that had been a month ago. Damn, he hadn't been without a phone call for so long. Stan braced himself for a mother-like scolding from her, but all Hephzie did was say happily, " _It's so good to hear from ya! I've missed ya! I was hopin' ya'd call! How are ya? Are ya okay?_ "

Stan played with the phone cord nervously as his smile died. He looked down at his ragged clothing and the body it covered. He knew he didn't exactly look like a picture of health and he had obtained a few more scars since Hephzie had last seen him, but there was no way in Hell he was going to tell her what he had been through. "I'm okay, Hephzie." Stan lied, but he was quite the skilled liar, so Hephzie bought it. "But to Hell with me. How've you been? Had a good birthday?"

Hephzie hesitated, but then she squealed like an excited child, making Stan's smile resurrect from the dead. " _I've had the best day! Ya wouldn't believe it, Stan! Ya just wouldn't believe it! Ford went all out on this one! We went out to this delicious Italian restaurant on 5th n' ate on this gorgeous rooftop! N' then we went for a walk on campus, n' right when we got to the ole willow tree, he_ proposed!"

Stan dropped the phone. The cord made it bounce by the pole and hang lifelessly, but Stan quickly picked it back up as he started to regain his sanity. "Really? He… that's… that's great! Really great!" He said as he clenched his fist.

" _Thanks!_ " Hephzie said with a chuckle. " _We're both so excited! Ya should see the ring he gave me, it's beautiful, n' the look on his face when I said 'yes'! Ha! I'd never seen him smile so big!_ "

Stan loosened his fist. He wasn't mad about his best friend and his twin brother getting married. He had supported them since day one and used to tease them about their future wedding, but things were different now. He once thought that they'd get married after the twins had found gold and then they'd go on adventures with Hephzie, sailing around the world as a little family, but that dream died a long time ago. If Stan was mad about anything, he was mad over the fact that he probably wouldn't get to see them get married. He was also still mad at Sixer for letting his own brother get kicked out of the house; he had seen him close the curtains and turn his back on Stan. Also, Stan's protective side over Hephzie didn't like the idea of her marrying some backstabbing asshole, but if that would make her happy, and if that would make Poindexter happy… Stan didn't have the heart to kill the joy in Hephzie's voice.

"Hey, seriously, Hephzie," He said and cleared his throat. "I'm really happy for ya. Really, I am. And... and you know that if he doesn't treat you right, you can tell me and I'll hunt him down and kick his ass."

" _Stanley._ " Hephzie chuckled, sounding amused over Stan's threat. " _Actually, there's somethang I've been meanin' to ask ya._ "

"Anything." Stan said, a little quicker than wise. He immediately gulped and wished that her request was actually one he could deliver.

" _It'd… ya know you're my best friend, right?_ " Hephzie checked softly. " _Ya've always have been n' always will. Ya know that, right?_ "

Stan had gone so long thinking that all he had was his prison mates that would sell him out for a nickel, that when he heard her say that, it was too much to swallow. But yes, he knew that. Nearly every phone call she reminded him of that. "Right." Stan croaked. He didn't have the strength to say anything else.

" _Well… I… I know ya wouldn't want to - n' I don't blame ya - but it'd mean the world to me if my best friend was at my weddin'._ "

Stan held the phone so tight that it was a miracle the plastic didn't snap under his knuckles. She had asked in such a timid manner that didn't fit her personality. Hephzie was tough and never afraid to voice her opinion, but every time she had asked if it would be okay if she could fly down and see him, or if he could move in with Grandpa, or if they could just see each other again, she always asked so hesitantly. Stan had a good idea as to why; she was afraid of losing him if she struck a nerve. To be at her wedding was such a simple request and one that physically hurt Stan to not be able to meet it.

"Hephzie…" Stan said slowly. "I… I can't. I'm still banned from New Jersey, I'm busy with my own life, and plus I ain't even welcome there…"

" _Yes, ya are._ " Hephzie argued.

"Hephzie…"

" _No, Stan, listen!_ " Hephzie demanded and Stan did as he was told, her voice so stern that he was actually a little scared to disobey. " _Look, I know thangs are hard. I know ya can't come home n' ya probably don't wanna, but ya can't… I can't just… just please promise you'll think 'bout it. We don't even have a location or date set yet. Just promise me you'll think 'bout it. For me?_ "

"Damn it." Stan said through gritted teeth.

" _What was that?_ "

"Goddamnit, Hephzie, why ya gotta pull the old 'for me' line, huh?" Stan asked as he pinched the bridge of his nose, physically unable to deny her when she used the deadly request. Ever since they were kids, if Hephzie asked Stan to do something "for her", he'd do it. No questions asked.

Hephzie laughed and Stan soon joined in. When their lungs were empty of air and they had to catch some more oxygen, Stan huffed,

"Alright, alright. I'll… I'll think about it. I promise."

" _Thank ya so much, Stanley._ " Hephzie replied.

Stan opened his mouth to ask if she had been up to anything else, but he caught some movement out of the corner of his eye. He was using an old payphone out on the streets of New Orleans, in a part of town close to the docks. The fog of the night air barely crept up from the sea to the streets, but enough to make Stan's skin crawl, especially since he saw some dark figures approaching. "Listen, Hephzie, I gotta go." Stan said harshly. "I'll call you back when I get the chance."

" _Are ya okay?_ " Hephzie asked as Stan watched the dark figures. He recognized them and he knew being trapped in a box wouldn't help him survive.

"Yeah, just outta quarters. I'll call you back as soon as I can." The conman quickly spat out, trying to keep his voice calm, but he was slowly starting to fail. He needed to hang up now.

" _Okay, Stanley, I'll talk to ya soon. Y…_ "

But Stan hung up. He couldn't waste another minute. He slipped on his brass knuckles and unlocked the payphone door to face the enemy.

* * *

 ** _May 5th, 1976_**

Ford and Hephzie sat under the willow tree. It was the hottest day of the year thus far. Not terribly hot, but it being California and the fact that they had been spoiled by the cool Spring weather made Ford roll up the sleeves of his gold-colored button-up so he wouldn't get too hot. He and Hephzie were chatting about their future. They had spat out ideas in the past, but there had been too many I-don't-knows to formulate an actual plan, but now with all of their resources out in front of them and their dreams shared, all they had to do was come to an agreement of what to do.

Ford had opened the discussion by telling his fiancée what he wanted to study for his grant. "I've been thinking… while there are many interesting fields of study, I have always been drawn to the supernatural and abnormal. You're well aware of how I was always teased for my six fingers." Hephzie nodded to show that she was listening. "Well, that got me thinking about other anomalies."

"Anomalies?" Hephzie repeated.

"Things that are odd, unusual and statistically improbable."

"I know what it means, Fordsie." Hephzie said with a roll of her eyes. "What 'bout them?"

"Well, I've done some research on the matter and… I think that's what I'd like to study." Ford said nervously, waiting for Hephzie's approval. Really, of all the scientific things he could investigate, this was probably the most poorly chosen logically. He could go into researching bacteria or work to find a cure for cancer, he could investigate the mysteries of the ocean, or even study the stars and work for NASCA. The world was his oyster, and he was going to choose to study science-fiction.

Hephzie, however, only laughed good-naturally. "I'm not at all surprised. I knew that's what ya wanted to do."

Ford blinked like a confused owl. "You did?"

"Ever since ya were a kid ya loved the unnatural." Hephzie pointed out. "Remember? Before the… before the ship, ya used to draw pictures of Bigfoot n' crop circles, n' ya brought that shrunken head to show-n'-tell."

Ford laughed, having forgotten that he did that as a child. "That's right. Didn't you bring Grandpa's viola and play _Jimmy Break Beans_ for the class?"

"We're talkin' 'bout ya, not me." Hephzie said firmly. "Anyways, ya wanna travel all over the country n' study all the anomalies of the US?"

"Well," Ford said slowly as he motioned his hand side-to-side in a "eh" sort of way. "Not really. You see, according to my investigations, there's actually a small town in the center of Oregon that's supposedly full of anomalies, but no one has ever investigated the area to prove it. If I - we, if you wanted to go - moved up there, I could investigate and record my findings."

"I'll follow ya into Hell, Ford." Hephzie said firmly and took his hand.

"But what about your medical school?" He asked.

"Well, I've been thinkin' 'bout that, too." Hephzie admitted. "N', honestly, I was tied between two schools: San Francisco Medical School and Oregon University of Health Sciences. Both of them have already accepted me, including other medical schools in the east coast, but now it makes my choice a little easier."

Ford smiled at Hephzie's little joke, but his smile was soon replaced with a look of concern. "And are you sure you want to move to Oregon?"

"I think it's a great idea! If that's where ya wanna go, then let's go! Remember, I'm from Oregon."

"That's right!" Ford gasped and slapped his forehead. "I nearly forgot… well, did you like it there? What do you remember of that place?"

"I was only six when we moved," Hephzie reminded her fiancé. "I don't even remember the name of the town we moved from, but I remember the lake I swam in as a child, n' I remember the woods. N' I remember the little piano store. It was older than the one in Glass Shard n' only one story, but it sat at the edge of these woods I liked to play in. I liked the woods. I think you'll like it, too."

"I'm sure I will." Ford said softly. "Well, if I'm correct, a huge chunk of the grant money is supposed to be used to set up my workspace, so if we choose to, we could build our own house."

"Really?"

"Absolutely!" Ford said, quite excited. "We can plan it all out ourselves! It can be as big as we want! There's a good chance it'll be our forever home, if we want it to be, and with all the money the committee as granted me, the possibilities are nearly endless!"

"Sweet Lord," Hephzie swore under her breath, the idea of building a home in which she and Ford would share enticing her. "That sounds amazin'!" Hephzie gave it some more thought, and then asked, "When would we move?"

"Well, I was hoping we could get started right away. The sooner we work to build our house the better."

"I agree. So, would we get married soon after college?"

"That was my intention." Ford suggested. "How about this: after graduation, we go back to Glass Shard for a bit and get married, then right after the honeymoon we can move and start building our house?"

"Well what if we got to work right after the weddin'?" Hephzie suggested.

Ford stared for a moment, a bit surprise she was so keen on skipping the honeymoon. "Wouldn't you like a honeymoon, my dear?"

"I didn't say I didn't want one," Hephzie corrected. "But, say we get married n' then move, we could get our house built n' then go out on the honeymoon, that way we have a home to come back to after a long vacation. Plus, the honeymoon will feel a lot better after all that plannin' n' work that'll go into buildin' the house."

Ford held his cleft chin in thought and smiled at Hephzie's suggestion. "That's actually really brilliant. Alright, we'll get married at Glass Shard so our families can attend easily, and then we'll move to our new home."

"Where will we be movin' to, anyways?" Hephzie teased, seeing how Ford has yet to say where in Oregon they were going to research anomalies.

"Oh, right. Gravity Falls. Gravity Falls, Oregon."

* * *

 ** _May 15th, 1976_**

That day, the class of 1976 graduated. And on that day, after the degrees had been passed and the caps had been thrown and kisses had been exchanged, right before Hephzie could take Maddie's and Fiddleford's picture, the young man got down on own knee and pulled out a ring. Maddie squealed a big "yes". Hephzie got the whole experience on camera.

* * *

 ** _May 16th, 1976_**

The four friends had to say goodbye at the airport, which was easier said than done, but they didn't have to worry; they would see each other again relatively soon.

* * *

 ** _May 20th, 1976_**

Ford and Hephzie worked at the kitchen table in Hephzie's home. The news that they were getting married wasn't exactly a surprise, seeing how Ford had asked for Grandpa's blessing weeks before buying the ring, and then Ford called his parents the day after he proposed, but that didn't mean that Pa's disapproval of it dissipated. In fact, when he saw the ring on Hephzie's left hand, his jaw tightened, but he kept his mouth shut. Ford got into even more hot water when he told his parents of their plans. Ma was happy for their son, but Pa quickly told him that his skills would be better applied elsewhere, but Ford had made up his mind and was going to go what he loved in Gravity Falls.

To try to prevent a fight from breaking out, all the wedding planning was done in the flat above Pianos For People. Grandpa didn't mind at all; in fact, he loved the extra company, giving them their space but providing helpful suggestions every so often, plenty of snacks, and cups of coffee. Today, the young couple was working on invitations to the wedding. They had a guest list and supplies in hand. They had already set a date and decided the sooner they could mail the invitations, but better.

Ford had always been under the impression that wedding planning was the lady's thing. The man gave his opinion here and there, but since every young girl seemed to dream of her wedding and it was her family that paid for it, traditionally it made more sense to Ford to just stay out of the way and let Grandpa and Hephzie plan the wedding, but that wasn't going to work. Hephzie wasn't the kind of girl who had a secret book full of wedding ideas or would pretend to be a bride in her room by wearing a pillowcase as a veil, and she made it abundantly clear that she wanted Ford's involvement in planning the wedding, and the groom quickly learned that he enjoyed wedding planning, perhaps a little too much. When Hephzie instructed him to fold the sign invitations with a special folding knife, he was a little giddy about it and wanted to do nearly everything, like writing out the addresses, put on the stamps, stuff the envelopes, and seal them. Hephzie had to play parent and eventually had to confiscate the folding knife and made it Ford's job to address and stamp the envelopes, meanwhile Hephzie would fill the envelopes with the invitation and the special tissue paper with the fancy H and F on it.

There weren't that many invitations. The wedding was going to be medium-sized, given the fact that they both had relatively small families and not many close friends. However, they did have a good handful of people to invite. Most of them were family-friends of the Pines and Ceces, like the Goldbergs, some members of Hephzie's church, Fiddleford and Maddie, and then Ma and Pa, Grandpa, Shermie, Daisy, and Franklin. Towards the end, Ford's eyes caught a name and address on the list that he had hoped not to see.

"Hephzibah." He said sternly.

"Hm?" She hummed as she sipped a glass of sweet tea, having just stuffed the last invitation.

"Did you really think I wouldn't notice the fact that you chose to invite Stanley to our wedding?" Ford asked coldly.

"No, of course not." Hephzie said calmly as she sat her glass on the coaster and sat comfortably in the chair, her arms crossed over her breasts, but her face and voice still calm, as if they weren't talking about something very important. "But did ya really think I wasn't gonna invite my best friend?"

Ford's eyes snapped at hearing Hephzie say that. "He's my brother and I'll decide if we're inviting him or not."

"Excuse me?" Hephzie said coldly, warning her fiancé to lower his tone.

Ford glared at her and explain in a calmer tune, "Hephzibah, we're not inviting him to our wedding. Even if we did, he wouldn't come."

"Ya don't know that."

"And you do?" Ford questioned.

"He promised me he'd at least think 'bout it…"

"What?!" Ford gasped and gave her a stern look. "When did he do that?!"

Hephzie sighed. No point keeping it a secret any longer. "On my birthday. He called me n' I asked if he would come…"

"He called you?!"

"Yes! He always calls me on my birthday, Stanford! That's what best friends do!" Hephzie said, exasperated.

"Wait, you've been talking to him since… since you were eighteen?!" Ford demanded and stood up, having too much energy to sit. "How can you do this?!"

"He's my best friend, Ford! We grew up together!"

"No, I mean how can you keep this a secret from me?!"

Hephzie gestured to the young man and his anger slowly went away. He realized that he was probably proving why she didn't tell him that she had stayed in contact with Stan. The more Ford thought about it, the more it made sense. He knew Ma talked to Stanley every so often, and Hephzie grew up with Stan just as much as she grew up with Ford. It did hurt a little that Hephzie would still talk to the man that sabatoshed his life, but she did have a right to speak to her own friends. And, of course she wouldn't tell Ford right away, giving him time to heal from his old wounds. Even now, he wasn't actively angry anymore, but he still held a grudge.

Ford sat down and sipped his glass of water. "I'm sorry."

"Apology accepted." Hephzie said calmly, as if nothing happened.

"But… do you think it's a good idea to invite him?" Ford asked.

Hephzie sighed and looked at him. "I know it'll be hard, but… look, I don't have a lot of people I can invite. My father won't walk me down the ail n' my mother won't kiss me goodbye. Heck, Grandma can't even do that for me anymore. I'm blessed that Grandpa got to live to give me away, n'... n' it would just mean a lot to me if I could have my childhood friend at my weddin', ya know?"

Ford looked at her sadly, knowing her statement rang true. He wrapped an arm around her and intoned, "I understand."

"Besides," Hephzie added. "It's been four years."

"Your point?" Ford sneered.

"The point is," Hephzie snapped before calming down again. "He's still your brother. Heck, your own twin!"

"I know who he is, thank you very much."

"Do ya? Cuz if ya really knew him ya'd know how much it'd mean to him to see your weddin'. Ya'd also know how he'd never break your project on purpose. N' even if he did - which he didn't - don't ya think it's time to let it go n' move on?"

Ford gave it some thought, even though he didn't want to. Yes, he wasn't actively angry about the whole science-fair-thing anymore, but he was still less than keen in inviting Stan back into his life, not so much his own wedding. As nice it would be to have his twin back, could he trust him? And it's not like Pa would let him… wait, a minute?! Since when did he care about what Pa thought?! If it was up to him this wedding wouldn't even happen! Not to mention that Stan was Hephzie's friend.

Ford gave a heavy sigh. "Alright, here's the deal: you can invite him to the wedding, and I'll be as civil as necessary for the event, but if he doesn't come, that's that."

"Deal." Hephzie agreed to at once and Ford removed his arm from around her shoulders to address the last invitation. "Thanks."

Ford huffed as he wrote out his twin's name and his new address. New Orleans, huh?

* * *

 ** _May 24th, 1976_**

Stan picked up the mail in the morning as his coffee brewed. He had a cruddy little apartment on the streets of New Orleans under the name of Andrew Alcatraz (he was running out of ideas, alright?!), but he had a good deal going on there. After escaping prison in Columbia, he had made it back to American thanks to the help of some old prison mates, who ran a drug cartel around the Gulf of Mexico. Stan didn't fuck with that shit, but he delivered the shit and therefore got a small percentage of the profit. It was far more than any of the scams he had pulled in the last four years, and though it was a risky job, for now he was safe. Much safer than when he was alone in Florida and had a knife to his throat.

One letter in the mail was an application for a credit card. Stan didn't mess with that shit. Too easy to track. One was a newspaper. He tucked that one under his arm to read over coffee. The last one appeared to be a normal letter. Stan stared at the handwriting and his eyes widened at the return address. He took his mail to the table and opened the cream-colored envelope. Yup, it was what he thought it was. Stan still hadn't call Hephzie back since that night he had been taught a lesson about paying late. At least his injuries were all healed up now. As promised, he had given it some thought. He did consider going to the wedding. He wanted to go, but it seemed like every week he changed his mind. No, he wasn't going. Yes, he was. Like Hell he'd go. Like Hell he'd miss it. Who knows, maybe they won't even invite him.

Stan read the invitation and seared the date into his mind. He had plenty of time to get things out of the way to make it if he wanted to go. At the bottom of the invitation, the bride and groom had both sighed. Stan would've recognized his brother's signature anywhere. _"_ _Don't forget to leave our names so they know who owns the place."_ The fact that he had invited him… Sixer had invited him to his wedding… Stan sighed and sipped his crappy cup of coffee. He'd find a way to make it.


	22. Finally

**July 9th, 1976**

Everyone warns you about Bridezilla, but no one ever mentions Groomzilla. Okay, Ford wasn't a complete Groomzilla, but he was certainly releasing his anxiety about the wedding by worrying about the little things, like the seating arrangement at the reception, the boutineers for the groom, best man and father of the groom, and the musical entertainment. The whole thing entertained Hephzie as she did a lot of counseling and shoulder-rubbing. She still wanted the day to be perfect, but she wasn't uptight about most things.

The day before the wedding and everything was coming together. While the Pines paid for the wedding dress, the flowers, and Ma mentioned a little surprise for the young couple after the wedding (she said she wanted to help pay for the wedding since "Hephzibah's just as good as my own daughter"), Grandpa took care of the rest, including renting hotel rooms and the wedding hall, decorations for the ceremony, and the reception dinner. Everything was falling into place. The wedding would be on the tenth of July, and Fiddleford and Madeline, and then Sherman and his family were set to fly in on the ninth. And to compromise with both religions, the wedding was taking place in a hotel, the best Glass Shard had to offer.

On the morning of the ninth, Hephzie and Ford got to work early. Fiddleford and Maddie's plane from Chattanooga was set to land in New York City early in the morning, so they picked the pair up and drove them back to the piano store for breakfast. By lunch, the four drove to the hotel to check that the wedding hall was being set in place. All the chairs were in rows, the while veil mixed perfectly with the black ribbon that hung on the walls, and red and white roses decorated the rows of chairs and the ail.

"Oh, y'all!" Maddie squealed. "It's beautiful! Y'all are so lucky!"

"Unfortunately, there is still a significant amount of work that still needs to be done." Ford said as he checked his watch nervously. "I must have a word with the bartender, and I also need to pick up the flowers and the cake."

"Mm, cake." Hephzie hummed as she licked her lips.

A young man with a curled mustache and a black apron over a tux asked, "Begging your pardon, but may I have a word with Dr. Pines?"

"Yes. you may." Ford said. "Excuse me, my dear." He kissed Hephzie's cheek and followed the caterer out of the hall.

Fiddleford looked at the walls, decorated with black and white, and commented, "I love the theme y'all have goin'."

"Thanks." Hephzie replied. "It was Stanford's idea."

Outside, the three young adults could hear Ford yell, "WHAT DO YOU MEAN THERE WON'T BE ANY SALMON?!"

Fiddleford laughed and held his ribs while Hephzie rolled her eyes, but there was a tiny smile on her lips. "I'll go see what's got his chemistry set bubblin'." Fiddleford volunteered.

Maddie followed him out of the room and down to where the reception was being held, leaving Hephzie alone in the hall. She looked around the room in which she was going to be married in and smiled. She bent down and admired a red rose from a bouquet tied to an end of a row of chairs and was lost in her thoughts until she heard a familiar voice say her name.

"Hephzie?"

She stood up straight and turned towards the double-doors prompted open. Her eyes widened and she grinned at seeing her best friend standing there.

* * *

Stan had to drive for three days in order to get to New Jersey on time. He had promised he would try - and he had been invited for God's sake! - so like Hell he was going to miss Hephzie's big day! Just for the wedding, and then he'd be gone. Maybe… maybe this would be a good way to say goodbye. Stan certainly couldn't stay, he was still banned from nearly every state on the east side of the country, but he could risk being in dangerous territory long enough to see Hephzie get married. She was his only friend in the whole world. She deserved that much.

Stan felt a weird wave of nostalgia creep up in his gut as he crossed the state line. As he got closer and closer to Glass Shard Beach, some things started to look familiar, like the Ferris Wheel he was terrified of, that skating rink in the neighboring town, and as he drove on a highway that followed the shore of the Atlantic Ocean, glass shards started to litter the sand. Stan didn't really miss his hometown, but being back brought memories, some hurt more than others. Thankfully, the hotel he was aiming for was on the outskirts of Glass Shard. When Stan pulled up to where the wedding was being held, he whistled at how nice the place was. He had a good chunk of money thanks to skipping out on a few meals on the trip up north, so he had enough for one night in the nice hotel, and then back down south. He had some enemies in New Orleans now, so he couldn't go back to Louisiana. Maybe Texas next? If he could make it across all those states he was banned in safely. Stan shook his head as he got out of the car. He'd cross that bridge when he got there.

Stan entered the hotel and was about to book a room when he saw a sign that caught his eye, reading for the wedding of Ms. Hephzibah Cece and Mr. Stanford Pines. Stan smiled and walked over to the room. It's doors were wide open and showed a beautiful hall decorated with white veils, black ribbons, and roses. He hardly awed at the room when he saw someone bending over a small set of flowers. She still wore her dreadlocks up in a high ponytail. She still wore jeans and boots. She still wore golden earrings and bracelets, but now also wore a white button-up, a watch and a ring.

"Hephzie?" Stan muttered over seeing her for the first time in four years.

She stood up and looked at him. At once, a smile covered her beautiful dark face and she ran to him as she yelled his name. Stan braced himself and caught her in his arms. They both laughed as Stan lifted her off her feet for a moment and she hugged him around the shoulders. When Stan put her back down, he took a moment just to hug his best friend, the woman that was practically a sister to him, the one person he felt like he had left in the world. A thought occurred to him and he realized that he probably smelled terrible, having been without a bath in four days, but she didn't seem to care. She gave a final squeeze before letting go to get a good look at him. "Oh my God, Stanley," Hephzie awed. "Ya came!"

"That's what she said." Stan said before he could stop himself.

Hephzie busted up laughing and punched his shoulder. "Oh for cryin' out loud…"

In retaliation for the shoulder-punch, Stan ruffled her dreadlocks and laughed along with her. "So, Mrs. Pines, you nervous?"

Hephzie shook her head. "Honestly, no. Ford does so much of the worryin' that I don't have to."

"What, is he gettin' cold feet?" Stan growled warningly as he punched his opposite hand.

Hephzie chuckled and put a hand on his shoulder to calm him down. "No, no, he's just determined to make the most of the weddin'. I think he's got it in his big head that if it's not perfect I'll change my mind or somethang. But that's never gonna happen."

"Good." Stan said and gave the room another look.

While he did, Hephzie's eyes stayed on her best friend. She got a good long look at him and saw just how much he changed. Stan wore old blue jeans, dirty boots, and a white t-shirt, or… what used to be white, anyways. It had been used so much that now it was more of a musty cream color. His shoulders were still broad, but he looked… skinnier? No, not quite. Underfed? He was still muscular and strong, clearly still using his boxing body, but he looked so worn. Stan's brown hair was longer now, almost to the point where it was a mullet, but not quite, and he had a weird five o'clock shadow coming in, like he had skipped shaving for a few days. Regardless of how much he had changed, he was still Stanley Pines, and Hephzie couldn't have been happier.

Hephzie put a hand to his cheek and let it trail down his neck and to his shoulder. "I really missed ya, Knucklehead."

Stan looked at her with heavy brown eyes. They once sparkled so much, and though they didn't look dull, but it was then that Hephzie was able to pinpoint what was so different about Stan; his innocence was gone. It had been robbed from him, but he still smiled at her and there did seem to be some of his old spirit still behind his windows to the soul.

"I missed ya, too, sis." Stan replied and then chuckled as an idea came to him. "Heh, just think. This time tomorrow it'll be official." Hephzie brought him into another hug as she chuckled and Stan couldn't find the heart to deny her another one, no matter how "unmanly" it was. He hadn't seen his only friend in four years, so what?! After a minute, though, Stan jokingly shoved her away and said, "Alright, alright, save all the mushy stuff for the groom, will ya?"

Hephzie chuckled and looked over Stan's shoulder. He turned to see what Hephzie could see and stiffened like a statue at seeing his twin brother standing a few feet behind them. Stan knew he must've changed a lot from when they last met, but Poindexter hadn't changed much at all. He was now almost as broad as Stan (if Sixer was now tougher than him, Stan might just have to jump into the ravine) and he definitely seemed older, but his sense of style was still the same. He wore jeans with a brown sweater-vest and a light-blue dress shirt underneath. He had his hands behind him in a sophisticated manner and he had held his head up high.

"Stanley." Ford said in a low voice, but his tone was mellow, like he was greeting a total stranger.

"Stanford." Stan growled, suddenly finding a bit of anger bubbling in his gut. So Ford was still mad at him, huh? Well, feelings were mutual. Stan was still mad Ford had left him behind. Still, they were both here in honor of someone special, so to start off on the right foot, the homeless conman said in a monotone voice, "Congratulations."

From behind Stan, Hephzie gave Ford a strong look, reminding him that he had promised that, if Stan did come to the wedding, he would be civil. Ford let out a puff of frustrated air through his nose and nodded, giving a small smile to his twin. "Thank you. I'm very lucky." He said, looking at Hephzie.

She nodded in approval, and then asked, "What happened with the caterer?"

Ford pinched the bridge of his nose. "Apparently there was a mix-up and now they won't be serving salmon as an entree."

"Will we still have chicken?"

"Oh, we will, but now we'll just have steak as an second option."

"Excellent! I love steak!"

"Well, the caterer was decent enough to serve it without extra charge." Ford added with a shrug, pleased that the change had been made so flawlessly. "Now, we've got to go pick up the cake and flowers."

"Right," Hephzie said and then cast a look over at Stan. She got an idea and then said, "Ya know what, why don't ya go on n' I'll meet ya back up at Pianos For People tonight?"

"Are you sure?" Ford asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Absolutely." Hephzie said stubbornly. "I've got some errands to run, so I'll pick up the cake so ya can get Shermie." She kissed Ford's cheek and then motioned for Stan to followed her out to the lobby.

Eager to leave his angry brother, Stan followed Hephzie, but took the time to look back at Ford. He scowled at Stan, and he didn't have a single problem returned the ugly look. Stan then found Hephzie at the front desk and stared as she pulled out her wallet and paid for an extra room on the second floor, on the same floor in which the other guests of the wedding were staying on. Stan opened his mouth to say she didn't have to do it, but closed it quickly when he realized how much money he was saving. He was prepared to pay for the room himself, but that didn't mean he didn't need the money. He desperately needed the money.

"Wanna go get your things, Stanley?" Hephzie offered as she dangled the key from her finger, ready to walk him to his room.

A few minutes later and he was walking down the hall with a duffel bag in hand. Hephzie unlocked his room for him and led the way inside. It was a really nice room, having two king-sized beds and a bathroom, plus a card table and a big TV.

Hephzie tossed the key on a bed and turned to face Stan. "Right, guess we'll need to get you a suit. N' we can order ya another rose. Good thang the theme's easy to follow."

Stan rubbed his neck. "Eh… thanks."

"Hey, what are friends for?" Hephzie asked. She then looked hesitant and she bit her lip. Stan had a good idea of what she was about to say and braced for impact. "I… I really missed ya, Stanley."

Stan sighed and gave her a gloomy look. "I've missed you too, Hephzibah. Really."

"I know thangs are tricky right now," Hephzie said slowly and she took a step forward. "But… but I…" There were a million things she wanted to say. She wanted to tell him that she knew he was in less-than-ideal circumstances. She wanted to tell him to stay. She wanted to tell him that she still wanted to see him, but all she managed to say to Stan was, "I'm so glad ya came."

Stan smiled and waved it away. "Yeah, well, couldn't miss my best friend's wedding, huh?"

Hephzie chuckled. "Nah, I guess not." She started to walk out the door and she said, "I'll leave ya to wash up. Wanna look your best when I take ya out suit-shoppin'."

"You don't have…"

"Ah, ah." Hephzie interrupted. "Bride's family pays for everythang, remember? I'll be in the main lobby when you're ready."

Stan smiled at the closed door and sighed to himself. The idea of a hot shower did sound nice. After clearing the hotel of everything free (and then some) and stuffing it into his duffel bag, Stan turned on the shower and allowed himself to enjoy the nice bath his body had needed for a long time. It was honestly a miracle he didn't fall asleep under the hot water. He was so used to watching his back, not daring to keep his eyes shut, always being on the run, that to relax and know that he was safe was alien. But no, he still wasn't safe. He was in a state he was banned in and only eight miles from his parent's house. If anything, this was the worst place to let his guard down. As to not keep Hephzie waiting, Stan didn't stall in the shower and quickly got dressed into relatively clean clothes, a pair of capris and a green Hawaiian shirt he had shoplifted from a second-hand store.

Meanwhile, Hephzie was sitting on the couch of the lobby doing some deep thinking. If she didn't get the boys to make up now, they'd never do it. She could feel it in her gut. It was only by guilt alone that Ford agreed to invite his brother and Stan agreed to try to come. If they both walked away from this wedding with their relationship unprepared, all hope was lost. Hell, they may never see each other again. Hephzie would have to use every trick in the book to get those two to make up. She had known them since they were children, and she knew that the best way to make them make up was to not force it, but time was her enemy and she couldn't afford to sit and pray the twins would talk about what happened. If they would just talk about what happened, it'd be like every other stupid fight they'd ever had, like when Stan had broken Ford's yoyo in the first grade or when Ford had ditched Stan to see a movie he wanted to see in the third grade.

Hephzie was pulled from her thoughts as Stan left the elevator and came up to her. She smiled and stood, but Stan rubbed his neck nervously again. "Uh, let me clean out the car first, then we'll head out."

Hephzie nodded and let him go, watching him through the big window by the door, where the Stanmobile was parked. When she saw all the trash he was throwing away in a nearby can to make room for her, Hephzie sighed. She wasn't an idiot. She knew Stan was homeless. She knew he slept in that Diablo half the time and had gotten into trouble in a handful of states in the country, but she decided to tackle one issue at a time. First, get the boys to make up. Then, help Stan.

At long last, Stan opened the front door of the hotel and gestured for Hephzie to exit the building. "Madam."

Hephzie chuckled and walked with him to the Stanmobile to get a tux, a rose, and a cake.

At the same time, Ford was picking up the flowers with Fiddleford and Maddie, ranting to them the entire time about Stan. Fiddleford and Maddie didn't even know Ford had a twin brother, so the whole story was quite entertaining and they listened patiently as he explained the incident, how Stan got kicked out, and how he, Stan, and Hephzie used to be best friends growing up so it was no wonder why Hephzie would want Stan at the wedding, but it still pissed Ford off. Maddie and Fiddleford learned quickly that it was best to just listen and let the stressed out groom rant in the truck on the way to the flower shop and in between conversations with the store owner as she pulled out the corsages, boutineers, and the bride's bouquet.

"But, Stanford," Fiddleford said timidly when Ford had paused to catch his breath. "He is your brother."

"All the more reason not to trust him!" The groom argued. "He betrayed his own brother all because he couldn't stand the fact that I wanted to go to college on my own!"

"Look, I know it ain't easy havin' brothers," Fiddleford said calmly. "Mind, I've got five o' 'em back home, but is it really worth bein' so angry at him? Ain't it better to be the better man n' forgive him?"

Ford turned away over the frustration that Fiddleford was right. "I'll accept his apology if he is willing to give one." He muttered.

"That's a way." Maddie said encouragingly. "Just don't forget what's important: family. Besides, isn't that what we're here t'celebrate? You're gettin' married, Fordsie! So, forget bein' pissed at this Stanley feller. Just enjoy your own weddin' n' remember what you're doin' all of this for!"

Ford sighed to let go some of the tightness in his chest and he found his smile returning at seeing the beautiful roses the store owner was displaying for his approval. They were both right; Ford could be mad at Stan after the wedding. Right now, he needed to focus on marrying the woman he loves.

* * *

Ford ended up picking up his older brother and his family from the airport after dropping Fiddleford and Maddie off at the hotel for the night. When he saw to it that Shermie, Daisy, and Franklin were safe in their room, Ford passed the bar and he heard laughing that he immediately recognized as his fiancée's. He peeked into the room and saw Hephzie and Stan sitting at the bar, each having a drink and laughing as the conman told a story,

"So then I said to the bouncer, 'Where's your idea, ugly?' And that's how I got this scar." Stan finished as he pulled back the sleeve on his right arm and showed where he had been cut.

Hephzie winced at the two-year-old scar and sipped her champagne. "Damn, so I guess he didn't call back?" Stan laughed and banged on the bar with a fist. Hephzie also laughed and caught Ford out of the corner of her eye. She waved and called, "Hey, honey, wanna have a drink?"

Ford stepped into the bar, stood next to Hephzibah, and kissed her cheek. "No thank you, my dear. I'm the designated driver."

"Right," Hephzie chuckled as she sipped her drink. "Stan was just tellin' me how he got banned from Florida."

Ford raised an eyebrow at his brother. "You somehow managed to get yourself banned from Florida?"

Stan shrugged and took a swing of his beer. "More or less. It just ain't a good idea to go cruisin' around there like I own the place."

"I imagine so." Ford muttered with a roll of his eyes.

Hephzie racked her brain to try to think of what to say, but all she could think to do was sip her drink as the twins suddenly pretended the other wasn't there. Stan glanced up at the TV and watched the baseball game that was on and Ford was close to requesting that he drive Hephzibah home, until she giggled into her glass and asked, "Do y'all remember the time Grandma went after me with Grandpa's belt?"

Stan stared at her. "No, I don't remember that!"

"Ya don't?" Hephzie asked, surprised. "Right, well y'all had just started takin' boxin' lessons, n' I was inspired to learn how to fight, so…"

Ford actually sat down on Hephzie's other side so she separated him from Stan, and the two listened to how Hephzie had crossed a line hilariously and ended up covered in peanut butter and getting whipped by Grandma. By the end of the story, the twins' memories had been jogged and Stan was beating the bar with laughter and Ford was wiping his left eye dry.

"...n' I swear to God I still have the marks on my back!"

"Can Ford confirm that?" Stan asked and he and Hephzie busted up laughing.

Ford turned red and said indignitively, "I wouldn't know, Stanley."

Stan decided to let the joke go, not really fond of the idea of his brother having sex with his best friend for obvious reasons, and so he said after a sip of beer, "Hey, I'm real sorry about Grandma, Hephzie. She was a good ole woman."

Hephzie nodded as she fondly remembered her grandmother.

"Not sorry enough." Ford muttered to himself against his better judgment, but Hephzie caught it, and Stan did, too.

"What the hell's that supposed to mean?" Stan asked in a low voice.

"It's not like you even bothered to attend her funeral, Stanley." Ford replied darkly.

"I didn't even know she was dead until after the funeral, Poindexter." Stan snapped. He shook his head like a wet dog and added in a low growl, "Look, this is stupid! You're not mad at me for not goin' to Grandma's funeral!"

"Is that right?" Ford challenged, his arms crossed.

"Yeah, you're still mad at me for breaking your damn science project!"

"It wasn't about the project, you knucklehead! It was about the fact that you sabatoshed my entire future and didn't even care!"

"Well you're the one who stood by and did nothing while Pa kicked me out! I mean, what the HELL, Stanford?! You just left me behind, you jerk! You ruined my life!"

"You ruined your own life! You know what," Ford snapped and stood up. "This is ridiculous! I'm not doing this the night before my own wedding!"

"Fine by me!"

Hephzie clenched her teeth together and groaned. No, they were so close! She had remained quiet, hoping they would talk about what happened instead of beating around the bush, but no! Before Ford could start to walk away, Hephzie snapped and yelled, "THAT'S IT!" She grabbed a hold of Ford's left ear and Stan's right and pinched hard. Each man was at her mercy and winced so bad they almost doubled-over in pain. "C'mere!" She growled and frog-marched the twins out of the bar.

"Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow!"

"Hephzibah, let go!"

Hephzie found what she was looking for, and quicker than light, she opened a cracked open cleaning-supply closet, threw the pair of brothers in it, and closed and locked the door. Trapped in the dark and on his knees, Ford got up and banged on the door. "Hephzibah, this is madness! Let us out!"

"Oh, I'll let y'all out." Hephzie said from the other side of the door. "As soon as y'all talk about what happened! You'll thank me for this later!"

"I have nothing to say to him!" Ford growled.

"That's something we agree on." Stan groaned as he rubbed his throbbing ear.

"Hephzibah, this isn't funny!" The groom yelled as he banged on the door. "The wedding is in eighteen hours!"

"Than y'all better get to chattin', cuz no one's leavin' that closet until y'all at least talk!" The bride called back.

Stan pulled out a lighter and flicked it on. Using the tiny flame for light, he found the lightswitch and turned it on so at least they weren't trapped in darkness. The closet was small, just big enough for the two grown men to stand in, and Ford froze when he thought he heard footsteps.

"Hephzibah? Hephzibah! Hephzibah Cece, open this door!" But there was no answer. Ford kicked the door in frustration, but all that did was make his toe feel like it might be broken as he hopped on one foot and swore loudly.

"Welp, looks like we're stuck here for the long haul." Stan said casually as he turned over a soap bucket and sat on it like a stool.

"There must be a way out of here." Ford muttered as he rubbed his foot and stood up straight. "Do you have some wire or even a bobby pin?"

"Yeah," Stan said and ran his hands through his hair for a second before saying sarcastically, "Oh, wait, I'm not a nine-year-old girl."

"Then why do you throw like one?" Ford retaliated with a sly smile and rummaged through his pockets for his wallet. "Maybe I can try the old credit card trick."

"Good idea." Stan said and stood up. "Here, give it here." Ford gave him a skeptical look, making the conman add, "Look, if anyone knows how to bust outta prison, it's this guy." And he jabbed a thumb at himself.

Ford sighed and closed his eyes for a moment, choosing to ignore that last comment. He handed over his debit card and stepped aside to let his brother work his magic. Stan slipped about half of the card by the handle of the door and began to work to push the lock down so the door would open.

"C'mon, c'mon…" Stan almost had it, when the card slipped out to the other side of the door. "Shit."

"Nicely done, Stanley." Ford sneered.

"Hey, cool! A debit card!"

"Hey!" Ford yelled and banged on the door when he heard a stranger's voice cheer excitedly over finding a free debit card. "That's mine! Goddamnit!"

Stan sat back down on his bucket and looked around the supply closet. He saw a little chunk of wood, probably access from a project, and he picked it up as he pulled out a pocket knife. Ford turned at hearing his brother and he saw that Stan was whittling to pass the time. Sighing, Ford sunk to the floor and sat against the door. He looked at his twin brother and saw just how much he had changed. The new scars on his arms, the dark shadows on his face casted by the single light bulb in the closet, it was clear that he had been through Hell and back since leaving home. Some time passed before anyone spoke, so much so that Stan was about halfway through a carving of a duck when the silence was finally broken.

"Stanley," Ford said quietly and the man addressed darted his eyes up from his work for a moment to show that he was listening. "Did you mean it when you said you've been to prison?"

"Only once." Stan elaborated. "Worst six months of my life."

"How in the world did you manage that?" Ford may have thought little of Stan, but he had never believed he would do something bad enough to go to prison. Jail, maybe, but prison was for long-term sentences.

"I was on the run with some guys from Florida." Stan said lightly as he chipped away at the piece of wood. "They were from Columbia and said they had a job for me. It's not like I had anything else going for me, so I went with 'em. Ended getting mixed up with some fucked up bastards and got thrown in a prison in the middle of the jungle."

Ford waited for more on the story, but Stan seemed to have told all he wanted to tell, so he didn't press him. The groom then entertained himself by thinking of what the hell he was going to do to his future-wife for locking him in a closet with Stan.

"Your fiancée's a real piece of work." Stan brought up, pulling Ford from his thoughts.

"You know just as well as I do, Stanley." Ford chuckled. "Remember the time she conned you into riding the Ferris Wheel?"

Stan paled for a moment and muttered, "Holy Moses, I thought I was gonna die."

"You nearly choked her." Ford added, remembering how tightly Stan had held onto Hephzie.

"Serves her right." Stan retaliated. He glanced up at his brother and asked in a serious tone, "You two really are happy together?"

Ford paused for a moment at Stan's question and the look he gave when he asked it. Ford couldn't pinpoint it… Jealousy? Loneliness? Grief? Or simply concerned? The groom nodded, despite his confusion, and answered honestly, "Yes, we are. I… I love her, and I'm excited to spend the rest of my life with her."

"Hey, I'm happy for ya, Sixer." Stan said and paused his whittling to look at Ford. "No, I'm serious. Look, whatever shit's between us, at the end of the day I'm still happy for you two. Period."

Ford blinked and smiled. It was nice to hear that he was still just as supportive about his relationship as he was back in high-school. "Thank you." He said earnestly. "Thank you, Stanley. I appreciate it."

Stan gave Ford a skeptical look and leaned forward so his elbows rested on his knees. "What, has it been rough?"

"It's not exactly socially acceptable to do what we're doing, Stanley." Ford confided in an undertone.

Stan had to actually think about it for a moment, but then he realized what his twin was saying and he muttered, "Oh." Sometimes, Stan honestly forgot that Hephzie was black and they were white. You'd think it being 1976 things like this would change, but though the couple wouldn't be arrested for this, there were a lot of challenges they'd have to face together.

"There was one time," Ford said slowly, wanting to get something off his chest and having no one else to say it to. "When Hephzie was volunteering at the San Francisco Hospital, I brought her lunch, knowing she'd have a long day. I surprised her in the lobby and she kissed me thanks, but when she did, I caught a nurse looking shocked. I later overheard the nurse say to Hephzie, 'When you described him you didn't mention he was… tall. Not that I have a problem with men who are tall!' Hephzibah then sneered, 'I don't care if he's as tall as Abraham Lincoln or as small as your IQ, Dawn, I still love him.'"

"So some stupid nurse thought you were black." Stan said lightly to try to belittle the situation so it would be easier to handle. "So what?"

"It's not just that, Stanley." Ford pressed, running a hand through his unruly brown hair. "We can't even go grocery shopping without receiving weird looks. I'm used to those looks, and Hephzibah is, too, but she still shouldn't have to put up with that kind of behavior. But she has proven to me time and time again that she's knows the hardships we're going to face during our marriage and she and I both agree that we don't care. But other people do care. And they make it clear."

"So? Fuck those other people." Stan said firmly.

"One of them is Pa."

"I still say fuck those other people." Stan repeated and continued to whittle. "Trust me, I get it. I know what it's like to not have the old man's approval, and let me tell you, you can live without it."

Ford looked at Stan carefully and then looked away. A million things were going though his head, and the same was happening to Stan. They both had so much to say and didn't know how to say it. How do you tell someone just how much you've missed them and how sorry you are for the choices you've made? How do you even begin to describe how badly you want to make things right but don't know how? Ford squeezed his eyes shut and Stan gritted his teeth. And then, at the same time, they both spat out,

"I'm sorry!"

The two Stans stared at each other, wondering who was supposed to explain themselves first. Stan was quicker and stabbed his pocket knife into the piece of wood.

"Look, I'm sorry, okay?! I'm sorry I broke your d… your science project, I'm sorry I ruined your life, and I'm sorry that I'm probably the worst brother in the world! I swear on my life that I didn't mean to break your motion machine, I fucked up, I admit it! But I'd never… but it doesn't matter! It still happened and I… I just… I'm sorry!"

"Stanley," Ford said and stood up. "I'm sorry, too. I'm sorry I stood by and let Pa kick you out. You may have made a mistake, but I never wanted you to get thrown out of your own home. And I'm no better of a brother. And I'm sorry that… I…" Ford sighed and ran a six-fingered hand through his brown hair. "I… for what it's worth, I'm glad you came for my wedding."

Stan sighed, stood up, and put the knife-stabbed piece of wood on a shelf. He clasped a hand on his brother's shoulder and said, "I wouldn't miss it for the world."

Ford decided that a shoulder-pat wasn't good enough. He held out his arms and offered slowly, "Awkward sibling hug?"

Stan shook his head. "To Hell with it… sincere sibling hug."

The two brothers hugged tighter than the norm, but they still did the "pat, pat" at the end of the embrace. They hardly had a moment alone when the door flew open and they saw Hephzie standing there with her lips quivering and her eyes sparkling.

"No need to cry about it, sis." Stan teased.

"Ya two are just… so… so… stupid!" Hephzie yelled, stomping her foot with each word like a child before bringing them into a hug, an arm wrapped around each man.

They hugged her back and got a chance to glance at each other from behind Hephzie. They still had a lot of shit to work through, but at least for now, for the special day tomorrow, all was well.


	23. (Re)Union

**July 10th, 1976**

Grandpa sipped his coffee with a sense of dread in his gut. This should be a happy day, this should be a joyous day, but Grandpa didn't have the spirit in him to celebrate the day he was giving his little half-pint of sweet apple cider half-drunk-up away.

But then he heard her bedroom door open, her running feet down the hall, and her cheerful voice as she shouted into the air, "I'M GETTIN' MARRIED TODAY!" Hephzie tripped and fell on her face down the hall, making the old pianist wince, but she quickly got up, ran to her Grandpa, kissed his cheek good morning, and then left to get out of her pajamas.

He found that, even though today would be hard, he was too happy for Hephzie to dwell on it. He smiled into his mug and was excited for the first time that day.

* * *

It was eleven o'clock when the Pines and Ceces arrived back at the hotel. The guests were all well rested and fed and now it was time to get ready. Stan was chatting with Shermie in the lobby when the Pines family arrived; after mending things with Ford and the couple left the hotel, Stan had paid Shermie a late-night visit and had the joy of seeing his nephew for the first time in four years. Ma's jaw dropped and her eyes filled with tears at seeing her long-lost son. She hurried to him with wobbly knees and was overwhelmed with love and joy when she finally had him in her arms again. Stan hugged her back and tried not to cry on her shoulder.

"Oh, my poor bubelah, you're home! What a lovely surprise! I can't believe you're here! Oh, let me look at you!" Ma held his son's face and got a good long look at how much he had grown in the last four years. "Oh, Stanley, I'm so happy to see you!"

"It's good to see you too, Ma." Stan croaked and smiled at her.

Pa was silent and his arms were crossed tightly over his chest in a stoic manner, as usual. Stan didn't even acknowledge his father, and thankfully Grandpa and Hephzie arrived in time to break the ice. Once clothes and flowers were passed around, everyone ran off to change in their respective areas, leaving the groom and the bride each their own suite to change and socialize in.

Ford had just finished buttoning the waistcoat of his tuxedo when the telephone rang. He picked it up and his patience withered away. Soon he lost his temper and he slammed the phone down, holding his head. Not wanting to make a decision without her, Ford called the room in which Hephzie was getting dressed, that way they could talk without seeing each other. He also put the phone on speaker so he could continue to get dressed. "Hephzibah, I am so sorry, my dear, but we have a situation we need to resolve."

"What happened?"

"The judge isn't coming."

"What?!"

"He claims his dog died! His dog died, my ass! I'll bet a PhD that he doesn't even own a canine!"

"Ford…"

"I knew he seemed hesitant! He must have changed his mind! Regardless, we need to find someone who can marry us in two hours!"

Having heard the yelling, Stan opened the bedroom door and quickly walked in, already dressed in a suit with a rose boutineer. "Hey, everything okay, Sixer?"

"The judge had the audacity to cancel on us last minute!"

"Ford, I know we said we'd try to stay neutral, but Pastor Paul has married many couples…"

"Wait, I can marry you." Stan volunteered.

"That's nice of ya, but I'm already engaged to a pretty nice guy." Hephzie said sarcastically through the phone.

Stan barked a quick laugh and then added, "No, I can legally marry you two. I got my licence back in Alabama to make a quick buck marrying broke couples."

"Why am I not surprised?" Ford asked.

"So, wait, ya can really marry us?" Hephzie asked. "That… that would be amazin'! I wouldn't want it any other way!"

Ford smiled at his brother and nodded at the idea of his brother officiating his wedding. "I agree, but… can you really do this? Legally?"

"Leave it to Stan Pines!" He said proudly. "I just need to go to the courthouse and get some paperwork. You two love birds just focus on getting ready and I'll see ya at the altar!"

Two hours later and the ceremony was about to begin. And Stan still wasn't back yet. Ford stood by the door and checked the silver watch that was tucked under his tux. He sighed in misery and looked around the double-doors of the hotel for any sign of Stan. Fiddleford and Maddie stood by him, each dressed and ready for the big day. Fiddleford, the best man, wore a nice gray suit with a rose in his pocket, and Maddie wore a beautiful gray maid of honor dress, being the only maid for the bride.

"Where the hell is he?"

"Stanford, you're pacin' like ya got porcupines stuck to the bottom of your shoes." Fiddleford said light-heartedly. "He'll make it."

The three could've sworn they heard a bang from outside that sounded like a car crashing into a poll. Soon, Stan busted the double-doors open with a book full of papers in his hand and his long hair sticking up. He caught his breath and ran to his twin as he flattened his hair.

"Where the hell have you been?!" Ford demanded anxiously, seeing how it was exactly thirty seconds before two o'clock.

"Well, I can always count on you for a warm welcome back." Stan huffed and checked to see that he had all the documents he needed to legalize the marriage. "I had to transfer my licence from Alabama to New Jersey, but fuck it. I'm here now and all set."

Ma came out of the hall with Alex holding a pillow with the rings and the mother of the groom closed the door quickly behind them. "There you are, Stanley! Hurry inside!"

Stan did as he was told and Ma took Ford's offered arm. As the big clock in the lobby struck twice, music started to play from inside, and Ford's heart rate increased. Sensing his rising nerves, Ma squeezed his arm in comfort and they walked behind the little ring bearer into the hall.

"I'm so happy for you, Stanford." Ma muttered as the paced down to the altar, where Stan stood with the book by his side.

"Thank you, Ma." Ford said with all of his heart. "For everything." For raising him, for being supportive, for every single little thing she's done for him throughout the years.

When they reached the end, Alex stood aside, Ford kissed Ma's cheek, and she sat next to Pa in the front row. She pulled out a handkerchief from the pocket of her mother-of-the-groom jacket and clang onto it for dear life, Pa's hands too busy being crossed over his chest to comfort his wife.

"You nervous?" Stan teased as he leaned towards Ford's ear.

"Shut up, Stanley." Ford sneered back with a small smile as Fiddleford and Maddie walked down the ail as the best man and the maid of honor.

"Just think, in a few months we'll have our weddin'." Maddie whispered to her fiancé.

"It is mighty excitin' to think 'bout it," Fiddleford agreed. "But today I wanna focus on Hephzie n' Ford."

Maddie nodded in agreement and the two split when they reached the altar. The maid of honor stood so she would be behind Hephzie and Fiddleford had Ford's back. The doors opened wide and everyone in the chairs stood up. Ford's eyes widened and his jaw dropped at seeing Hephzie stand next to her grandfather, one arm wrapped around his and her free hand holding a beautiful bouquet of white and red roses. Hephzie wore the most beautiful Greek-style white dress that dragged gracefully by her feet, her arms covered by graceful lace and her back naked. Her dreadlocks were tied up in a high bun and a comb pinned a long veil behind her. She was absolutely beautiful, and the smile she wore at seeing her future husband waiting for her made her grin even more radiant.

The walk towards the altar was both the longest and shortest walk of Grandpa's life. He didn't get a chance to give his daughter away at a wedding and had always mourned over it, but now as he prepared to give Hephzie away, a part of him wished this day had never come. Grandpa looked at the young man he was about to trust to take care of his little girl, the same young man he had seen grow up from a timid little boy into an intelligent adult. Grandpa then looked over at the young lady he had on his arm and how happy she looked. Even though he hated that Hephzie was all grown up, he knew he was ready to let her go.

They reached the end and Hephzie kissed his whiskery cheek. "I love ya, Grandpa."

"I love ya, too, Half-Pint." Grandpa replied in a low voice and gave her arm a squeeze before letting go and watching her walk up the little alter to be married. He sat in his seat and Stan cleared his throat.

"Dearly beloved, we're gathered here today to join this man and this woman in the bonds of marriage." Stan's smile was gone for a moment as he groaned under his breath and added, "Right, I'm only doin' this part cuz I have to by law. So, if anyone's got any reason why these two shouldn't get hitched, speak now or forever shut your yap." He growled.

"Stanley." Ford muttered in an undertone, but then his eyes darted nervously to his father. Maybe he needed new glasses or something, but he could have sworn he saw Ma kick him in the shin so he would have to bite his tongue.

"No, nobody? Good." Stan said and regained his smile. "Moving on… I've known Hephzibah and Stanford my whole life, and I can't imagine two people more perfect for each other. They're my best friends, and I'm so happy for both of them as they decide to get hitched. They've gone through H..." Stan paused at seeing his four-year-old nephew listening to what he was saying and the conartist quickly censored himself. "...all sorts of hardships together, and that won't change much, but they're both tough and can get through anything." Stan opened his book and seemed to be looking for something, but then he closed it and said, "Uh… I'm supposed to give a metaphor about love or something, but these two know all about that already, so… uh…" Stan leaned forward to the couple and whispered, "Did you two write vows?"

Ford winced. Shit, he had forgotten to tell Stan they had written their own vows. He nodded and Stan perked up. "Great! So… where are they?"

Fiddleford tapped his shoulder and handed him Ford's vows. Stan took it and Maddie gave him Hephzie's vows.

"So... cool! Awesome!" Stan said and looked at the decorative notecards for a moment. "Uh… okay, ladies first, I guess." He cleared his throat and read out-loud Ford's vows. "Hephzibah Cece, do you take Stanford Pines to be your lawfully wedded husband? Do you promise to stay loyal to him, no matter what comes your way, to fight all battles with him, and to see all the corners of the world with him? Do you promise to love him until the sun dies and even after that, in sickness and in health, for better or for worse, until death parts you?"

"I do." Hephzie said proudly.

"Yeah, you do." Stan choked and blinked his eyes dry. "Sh… shoot, who's cutting onions in here?" He quickly muttered and then went on with the vows. "Right… Stanford Pines, do you take Hephzibah Cece to be your lawfully wedded wife? Do you promise to stand by her side, to walk with her through thick and thin, to learn and grow with her? Do you promise to love her until the end of time and even longer, in sickness and in health, for better or for worse, until death parts you?"

"I do." Ford croaked.

Stan put the cards in his book and said excitedly, "Well, than by the powers vested in me by the state of New Jersey… ah, crap, wait." Hephzie bit her lip to try to keep from laughing and Ford closed his eyes in annoyance. Stan had forgotten the rings. "Alex, we need the rings."

The little boy grinned as he stepped forward and held out the little velvet pillow to the bride and groom. After Hephzie handed her bouquet to Maddie, who was nearly crying, they each took a golden bang and Ford slipped one on Hephzie's hand, right up to her engagement ring, and then she slipped a ring on his left hand, on the second to last finger on his polydactyl hand. Then they held hands and waited for the go-ahead to seal their marriage.

"Alright," Stan said with a huge grin that covered his whole face. "And so, by the powers vested in me, I hereby pronounce you husband and wife. Now kiss her, ya nerd." Stan hissed through gritted teeth and stepped to the side to let them do their thing.

Ford held her face gently by the cheeks and Hephzie wrapped her arms around his body. The minute their lips met, loud cheering rang through the hall. Grandpa stood up and whooped and hollered. Shermie and Daisy clapped loudly. Alex looked like he was trying to do a jig as he clapped wildly. Ma applauded shakily as she cried tears of joy. Fiddleford and Maddie both cheered and clapped with huge smiles on their faces. Stan punched the air and yelled louder than anyone in the room, not caring who heard.

When the newlyweds separated, a picture was taken quickly and then Ford and Hephzie walked out of the room, hand in hand, as they smiled proudly. Once they were gone, the crowd erupted in conversation as they slowly moved for the reception.

After the guests got a chance to socialize and stretch in the vast room, the newlyweds entered and were greeted by applause. Stan, Fiddleford and Maddie let out loud hollers that rang nearby ears. Ma clapped until her hands were sore, her eyes were misty, but not nearly as wet as Grandpa's. Pa was the only one silent in the room.

The crowd parted like the Red Sea to let Hephzie and Ford walk to the dancefloor as the band on the stage began to play a slow song for the married couple's first dance. Ford had been nervous all day, so it was not unusual to be nervous when it came to the dance. Hephzie was a beautiful dancer, so Ford felt like he had a lot to live up to, but he had been practicing for this moment, knowing how much it probably meant to her; Hephzie had always loved music. The song the slow, so Ford put his hands around Hephzie's waist and she had her arms wrapped around his neck, their usual way of holding one another. They swayed to the music, and while Hephzie's mind was getting carried away by the smooth jazz, Ford's was busy keeping track of his speed.

"Are ya nervous, Dumb-Dumb?" Hephzie teased in a quiet whisper when she caught the redness in his cheeks, privately thinking it was cute whenever he blushed or looked flustered for a second.

"Hephzibah, my dear," Ford said in a low voice, a small smile on his lips while his face still blushed. "I was nervous when I asked for Grandpa's blessing, I was nervous when I bought the ring, I was nervous when I asked you to marry me, I was nervous when I told Ma and Pa, and I was nearly nauseated when Stanley was late. I have been nervous for so long I can hardly remember what it is like to not be nervous."

Hephzie chuckled and moved a hand to the side of his neck, keeping him close as they swayed to the music. "Well, if it makes a difference, you're doin' great." She kissed his chin and he kissed her cheek in return.

Getting a stroke of confidence, Ford spun her and she giggled, enjoying dancing with her husband. Encouraged, Ford danced more freely with her and enjoyed simply being with his wife.

After the first dance, Grandpa got a chance to dance with the bride, dancing to a slow song and holding her tight. Soon the band playing announced that it was time for dinner and cake. A delicious meal was served by the waiting staff from the hotel and for dessert, the wedding cake was cut, but when Ford tried to feed Hephzie a bite, his hand shook and his missed, spreading white cake and icing on her cheek. It was only a little smudge and it made her laugh. In retaliation, she took a finger full of icing and spotted it on Ford's nose. The whole cake-mess quickly escalated until both faces were fiercely covered in cake and a million napkins were needed to clean up. Many years later, a fun "argument" would be who won the first fight as a married couple and who started it.

The reception turned out to be a great party. Fiddleford had plenty of stories from his childhood on the hog farm, many of which made Stan snort into his champagne. At one point, as a surprise, Fiddleford and Maddie pulled out their instruments and played for Ford and Hephzie, leading to a crowded dance floor as people danced to the banjo and fiddle. Pa was in no mood to dance, and seeing how Grandpa wished his wife was with him to dance, Ma ended up dancing with her friend and they both had a great time. Alex enjoyed the party, listening to Uncle Stan's stories and playing with Auntie Hephzie. Even Daisy and Shermie, the quiet and boring couple, managed to have a good time. Other friends and family members kept the party alive and well.

About five o'clock or so, Ford snagged another glass of champagne and turned to watch the dance floor as he sipped his drink. A slowish song was playing, but he didn't feel like dancing. He hoped Hephzie wouldn't take offense. His worries were demolished when he spotted the bride dancing with the ring-bearer. Waltzing between Fiddleford and Maddie, and other couples that littered the dance floor, Hephzie danced with Alex, spinning the little four-year-old every so often and chatting with him happily. Alex giggled and wore an adorable smile that matched Hephzie's. Ford smiled as well, pleased to see his new wife getting along with his nephew. True, they had always gotten along and loved one another, but it didn't make their interaction any less special to the groom.

Ford's eye caught Pa getting another glass of champagne at the bar and then standing next to him. Ford sipped his drink and kept his line of vision on the dance floor. He knew his father would try to have a word with him, and he had hoped that Pa wouldn't get a chance to, but unfortunately the groom was cornered and all he could do wait until his father spoke his mind. He knew how Filbrick Pines operated; he started with quick sneers and comments until someone (usually Ma) tried to shut him up, then he was stoic, bottling up his thoughts and feelings until he exploded. Ford knew it was only due to Ma's manipulative behavior that Pa had kept quiet this long.

"So," Pa said as he too watched Hephzie and Alex dance. "Any idea what you've gotten yourself into?"

Ford pursed his lips, and not due to the fact that the alcohol burned in his mouth and throat. "Yes, sir." He said in the same tone as his father. "And I'm glad that I get to face it with Hephzibah."

"You do realize that any chance of success is gone, right?" Pa clarified and glanced over at his son from behind his sunglasses. "You'll never get anywhere with her riding on your coattails."

"She is not 'riding on my coattails', Pa." Ford sneered coldly into his glass. "She has always supported me. What makes you think that will change?"

"She's not some new kid you have to watch anymore, son." Pa said coldly as he watched Hephzie dance with his grandson. "She's not some girl you have to look after in order to repay a lifelong-debt. She's a young woman with a lot of baggage that you're going to have to carry for the rest of your life."

"And I'm a young man with a lot of baggage that she's going to carry for the rest of her life." Ford snapped back. "I don't care if I have to carry the whole world on my shoulders from now on. I still love her."

Pa snorted. "Love is a conscious choice you make every day, and you've proven to me that your choices are pretty poor."

"Excuse me?" Ford asked; he lowered his glass and turned to face Pa, his face stoned with anger.

"Of all the women you could've chosen, Stanford, you chose a bastardized Negro." Pa snarled behind his mustache. "You could've chosen from millions of other women, but you chose her. She'll only hold you back. Have you thought about the career opportunities you'll lose when they see who you've married? Have you thought about your children? If you knew what's good for you, you would've dodge a bullet when you had the chance, but now it's too late and you're stuck with that bloodsucking leech."

"Shut up." Ford snapped, his anger clouding his better judgment. "Don't you dare insult my wife like that."

Pa fixed his glare over to his son and turned to face him. His mouth was a thin line, his jaw tightened, his chin and cheeks sharp. "I'll say whatever I damn well please."

"Say whatever you want about me, sir," Ford said in a mocking tone. "But if you know what's good for you, you'll keep your thoughts about my wife to yourself."

"Oh, as disgusted as I am by your wife," Pa sneered, making Ford's grip on his glass tighten to a dangerous degree. "I've got a few problems with you. I thought you had learned your lesson when your screw-up of a brother ruined your life, but clearly you need to see Hell itself to get a grip. You've always had so much potential, but you threw it away like trash for something as pathetic as…"

"Hey," Someone barked and Ford turned around to see that Stan had his back, catching wind of the argument and siding with the groom. "You heard him, knock it off."

"Don't you dare talk to me like your family, boy." Pa shot at Stan, but the conman didn't even flinch. He had stopped being afraid of Pa when he threw him out of the house.

"He is family, Pa." Ford said firmly and took a step back so he was next to his brother, and then put a six-fingered hand on Stan's right shoulder.

"Like Hell he is. I'd never have such a pathetic excuse for a man as…"

WHAM!

Stan and Ford were nearly identical as their jaws dropped and their eyes widened with shock. Only the nearby guests of the wedding had caught wind of the argument between the Pines men, but now the whole room was aware of the father of the groom being slapped across the face by the bride.

Hephzie's hand was still raised. She ignored the stinging that was tingling her palm as she took in several deep breathes like she had just run a marathon. Her eyes cracked and sparked like fire and her face was livid. Pa only readjusted his sunglasses, as they had been thrown off a bit by the hit of the bride, and looked at her stone-faced. Ma had her hands over her mouth. Grandpa was trying to suppress a smile of amusement. Shermie and Daisy had stopped dancing and looked at the commotion, and so did Fiddleford and Maddie. Franklin was standing at the dancefloor, alone, and his mouth was hanging open, his eyes huge with anticipation. The whole room was quiet, even the band, but no one was in as much shock as Stan and Ford, who had just seen their father get slapped by their best friend.

"Don't ya DARE call Stan pathetic!" Hephzie screeched like a banshee as she raised her hand even higher to slap Pa again. "Don't ya DARE! Ya lowsome, cowardly…"

Pa took a step towards her. "What did you say you little…"

"Hey," George growled and took a step forward. "Ya don't talk to my granddaughter like that."

"Who the hell do you think you're talking to, Cece?!"

"Who do you think you are...?!"

Ford got in between the two angry old men and said firmly with his hands held out to keep them apart, "Pa, Grandpa Cece, please, this is our wedding! Can't you control your temper?"

"You better instruct your wife to do the same, Stanford." Filbrick instructed.

"You had it coming, Pa, don't deny it." Ford said in a cold voice and faced his father. "I know you don't approve of my decisions, but that won't change the fact that we're still married and I'm still going through with my choices, whether you're impressed or not."

"Fine." Filbrick growled. Behind his sunglasses, he darted his eyes to Hephzie, who looked ready to slap him again, and Stan, who stood proudly behind his brother. Disgusted, Filbrick said his piece in a deadly sneer, "But when your life falls apart, don't come to my doorstep."

"I wouldn't go to your doorstep if it was a choice between that or Hell." Ford made clear.

With nothing else left to say or do, Filbrick walked out of the ballroom and out of view, no doubt to go back to the pawn shop. Ma didn't follow, but she did close her eyes in shame and held her head. Ford was breathing heavily. Stan was the first to speak. He looked at Hephzie and said, "Damn, sis, I think you left a bruise."

The bride smirked at the man who had married her and her husband. "I learned from the best boxer around. C'mon, dance with me, brother."

Happy to cut a rug with his new sister-in-law, Stan grabbed her hand and pulled Hephzie onto the dancefloor. The band started to play a fast-beat song and the two danced like there was no tomorrow. Ford watched them with a small smile on his face, but his smile soon went away as he thought about what his father had said. He didn't regret his choices one bit, but he started to wonder how much trouble he had gotten Hephzie into by marrying her. Ford started to wonder how many more faces would get slapped and how many more ties would be cut based off of their choices.

* * *

It was late at night. Everyone had either gone home or up to their hotel room, except for the newlyweds and Stan, who all sat at the bar, catching up from not being together in over four years. Ford was just explaining to Stan how he had been awarded a huge grant for his own scientific research and what he planned to study.

"So, wait, your job is to basically study sci-fi mystery weirdness?" Stan clarified over his fourth glass of champagne, but he was such a heavy drinker that something as mild as a fancy drink hardly made him drunk. "Sounds like a sweet deal to me! You'll finally get to do what you've wanted since you were a kid! Sure, it's not on a boat, but…" Stan stopped himself. Maybe he did have too much to drink.

Ford smiled and nodded, "No, no, you're right Stanley. It won't be a boat, but a cabin in Oregon we're building. I've already hired someone more than up to the task. All we need to do is find a patch of land we like, purchase it, and get to work. We even have the blueprints we need. However, it could still use some work."

"Hey, that's great!" Stan congratulated. "What about you, Hephzie?"

"Well, I've been accepted to a neighborin' medical school. It's too far of a drive to go every day, but the town's hospital has strong connections with the medical school, so if I work part-time as a nurse I can take classes there n' get my doctorate." Hephzie explained.

"Sounds like you two got it figured out."

"What 'bout yourself, Stan?" Hephzie asked. "What are ya up to? What's your plan?"

Stan busied himself by sipping his drink. He didn't really have a plan anymore. He was just trying to stay alive. Sure, the goal had once been to make it rich so he could rub it in people's faces, more specifically his family's, but reality soon slapped Stan in the face and then told him that the only way a homeless high-school dropout was going to be rich is if he either won the lottery or married a rich girl. At this point Stan was just trying to make enough money to eat and get him a place to sleep that isn't his car (if he's lucky). He racked his brain for a good lie that would be bought by the newlyweds, but his stupid head wasn't coming up with anything. "Well, I was thinking of going down to Texas to look for a job." Stan let slip. "Great tourist-towns. Loads of good BBQ. I'll figure it out when I get there."

Hephzie and Ford exchanged looks. They could read in between the lines of the stories. They weren't idiots. They knew Stan was homeless. Hephzie opened her mouth to say something, but Ford surprised both her and Stan when he spoke first. "Stanley, we… it's a big job, discovering the anomalies of Gravity Falls and uncovering the biggest mysteries this country has to offer." He said slowly. "Too much for one man alone. I would love to rely on Hephzibah for help, but with her time-demanding job as a nurse and her education, it would be unfair to expect her to always be available to assist me in my investigations."

"N'," Hephzie added quickly, jumping on Ford's train of thought. "I'm glad ya want to discover those anomalies, sweetheart - I really am! - but some of those creatures are dangerous, aren't they?"

"Incredibly dangerous!" Ford emphasized. "So, Stanley, I suppose… what we're asking is… would you be interested in coming with us?"

Stan stared at them for a moment as they watched him hopefully. They were offering him a job. Not just any job, but a job to hunt down monsters and other mysterious creatures up in Oregon. And a home… they were offering him a home. It was like Stan had said; it wasn't sailing around the world looking for gold, but discovering weirdness and doing it with his brother and best friend sounded almost too good to be true. But wait… what if it was? Stan raised an eyebrow and asked, "Are you saying you need someone to track down monsters and make new discoveries in the adventure of a lifetime?"

Ford chuckled. The adventure of a lifetime, huh? That was one way of putting it. "We don't just want someone, Stanley. We want it to be you."

"Come with us." Hephzie said with a huge smile on her face. "Please, it can even count as our weddin' gift!"

Stan gave a small laugh and gave the couple in front of him another long look. They were serious. They wanted him to come with them. They wanted him to move in with them and explore that weird town Ford had found, Gravity Falls. They wanted him. Stan nodded and said, "Yeah… yeah, I'll do it. I'll go with you to Gravity Falls."

"YES!" Hephzie cheered. "Waiter, let's get another bottle of champagne! We gotta lotta celebrate!"

The twins laughed and allowed the bride to pop open a bottle of alcohol and pour out glasses. There, they made a toast to celebrate the new chapter in their lives.


	24. Beginning

**_July 11th, 1976_**

"Wait, what if we made the office space his bedroom?"

"Because… actually, I suppose we can afford to lose the office."

"I don't know what you two love birds were thinking, having an office and a thinking parlor." Stan said with a roll of his eyes as he bit into his burger.

"We were thinkin' that Ford's work is bound to explode all over the house, so we might as well try to keep it contained in some of the rooms. Plus he's too stubborn to give up the thinkin' parlor." Hephzie teased, poking him in the ribs and making him squirm.

"I thought you liked the thinking parlor, darling?" Ford asked as he peered down at the blueprint in front of them.

"I do." Hephzie quickly made clear. "I think with the fireplace it'll be real nice n' cozy. We can get some rockin' chairs n' a couch n' make the parlor a good place to sit on cold winter nights."

Ford hummed with closed eyes as he thought about what his wife had just said. The idea of sitting by the fire, on a warm couch, next to Hephzie, under a blanket, while the harsh winters dumped snow around a snug cabin was too good of an opportunity to miss. He opened his eyes and said, "So, we're in agreement about the thinking parlor?"

"As long as you quit calling it the 'thinking parlor'." Stan joked.

"Everythang looks fine to me," Hephzie said as she borrowed the white pen and tapped on the blueprint. "So if we make the extra office space Stan's bedroom, that'll leave the storage room, guest bedroom, n' second bathroom on the second floor n' everythang else on the first floor."

"The living room, dining and kitchen space, the master bedroom and bath, the thinking parlor, the first bathroom, and Stan's bedroom." Ford pointed out.

"This looks amazin'!" Hephzie awed as she sipped her soda. "I can't believe soon this'll be our actual home."

Stan read the blueprints upside down as he ate his dinner from a fast food joint in Youngstown, Ohio. The word "home" had been foreign to him (and that was saying a lot considering he knew a handful of languages) for so long that hearing seemed… weird. But a good weird.

They got a late start heading for Oregon since the married couple had to pack up their things and drive Shermie, Daisy, and Franklin, and then Fiddleford and Madeline to the airport that morning. That took up half of the day and Stan could tell that Hephzie and Ford were still a little tired from the wedding, so they stopped after about six hours in Ohio to grab dinner, then hit the road before staying in a motel for the night. While outside a fast food joint to stretch their legs and enjoy the summer evening, Ford pulled out the blueprints for the house they were building to make some adjustments to the plan for Stan. He tried not to feel too weird about it, and in all honesty, having his own room in the blueprints for the house made the whole experience of joining them feel more real.

It was a little hard to read the plans upside-down, but he could've sworn it looked like there was going to be at least two basement floors, maybe three. He was about to ask why, but when he thought about it the answer came to him. Poindexter always needed a lot of room for his work. His ideas and thoughts exploded in a room, and a multi-floor basement would be ideal for experiments and in-depth investigations of weird creatures. Stan also didn't feel like bringing it up; years on the streets taught him when and where to ask certain questions. With a shrug, he popped the last of his burger into his mouth and listened to his brother and best friend chat aimlessly.

* * *

 ** _July 12th, 1976_**

They managed to make it from the east side of Ohio all the way to Omaha, Nebraska that second day of traveling. The trip certainly was interesting, with all three of them riding in the Stanmobile, pulling Ford's car behind the red Diablo, and having Hephzie's motorcycle strapped to Ford's car. Most of the luggage that had been shoved into the two cars were personal items (with no one owning any furniture) and unopened biral gifts for the newlyweds.

Hephzibah, Stanley, and Stanford took turns driving and taking naps in the back. Stan wished he had a camera handy when Ford and Hephzie fell asleep in the back seat, laying on each other and snoring softly, but oh well. There'd be plenty of chances for blackmail in the future.

* * *

 ** _July 13th, 1976_**

Late that night, the three finally arrived in Gravity Falls. It was dark out, so they didn't get to enjoy their first glance of their new home very much, but Stan did laugh at the sign that they first saw when they arrived in the small town.

 _"Welcome to Gravity Falls! Nothing to see here folks!"_

"We'll see about that!" Stan challenged as they entered the small town to rent out a small apartment until the house was finished being built.

* * *

 ** _July 14th, 1976_**

The three were exhausted from the move, but Ford was too excited to sleep in, as instructed by his wife, so he got up early to meet up with the constructor who would be building his house. He met up with a red-headed lumberjack named Manley David Corduroy at Greasy's Diner. Ford helped himself to some coffee while Manley Dave told him about great places to build his home. After meeting up with Stan and Hephzie, they managed to get their hands on the perfect spot in the middle of the woods, a bit distant from town but not too much where they would get hopelessly lost. Just enough to ensure privacy. Ford bought the land for a great price from Northwest Realty and Manley Dave approved of their blueprints and he and his son, Boyish Dan, got to work right away.

* * *

 ** _July 15th, 1976_**

Thank God one of Ford's favorite movies, _Earth of the Monkeys_ , was having a marathon on TV, so Hephzie managed to get him to rest and catch some much-needed sleep on the couch while watching the movie series. In the afternoon, he and Hephzie went to check on the progress being made on the house, expecting only the ground to be done, but no.

The newlyweds' jaw dropped when they saw a skeleton of their dream home being made. The floor was nearly done and the beams of the house were already in place, even some of the tiling was up.

"Incredible!" Ford awed as he led his wife inside the project to get a good look at the significant amount that was already done. "At this rate we'll be moved in by the end of next week!"

Boyish Dan paused his work on the wood floors and wiped his sweaty forehead on his arm. He looked about twelve years old, but was a well built kid with red hair, tall body, muscular arms, and his voice was already deep. "Good afternoon, Mr. and Mrs. Pines." Boyish Dan greeted politely and stood up to shake their hands. Hephzie grinned at being called by her new last name. "What do you think so far?"

"It's amazin'!" Hephzie complimented, her eyes wide with wonder as she could practically see her home all around her. "Ya n' your father did all this in a day?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"I'm very impressed." Ford said with a nod of his head.

The two soon left Boyish Dan to keep on working, holding hands as they looked out at the woods that they now called home. The trees shaded them nicely as the hot summer sun gave life to the forest. Birds chirped and they could hear all the life that lived in the woods, like the rustling of leaves under deers' hooves or the squeaks of squirrels.

Hephzie took in a deep breath and let it out, enjoying the pine-scented fresh air, a very nice change from the smogged atmosphere of Glass Shard or the polluted air of San Francisco. "I'm glad we decided to move here. It's just… I feel like… I dunno. I feel like we really fit in here, ya know?"

Ford looked over at his wife as he rubbed her hand. "I know what you mean. Can you even imagine what we'll find here?"

"No, I…"

A giant crushing sound made Ford flinch so bad his glasses threatened to fall from his face and Hephzie whipped towards it. Just in time, the newlyweds saw Ford's car being crushed and dragged away by a giant brown hand, twice the size of Ford's poor car and soon gone without a trace.

Hephzie only awed at where the hand was mere minutes ago.

Ford readjusted his glasses and grinned. "Bingo."

* * *

 ** _July 24th, 1976_**

Ford was right. That morning, he, his brother, and his wife moved into their new home. They didn't have much to move in, so the three went down to the furniture store and had a surprisingly fun time "adulting" and buying furniture they would now use for most of their lives. Stan wanted loud, obnoxious furniture, but Hephzie and Ford had plain taste. All Ford requested was that they had a wide variety in color. Hephzie only asked that it was all comfortable.

By that afternoon, the furniture had been moved in, boxes littered each room, and dust and dirt crowded the floors, but everyone was too distracted by the excitement of Moving Day to care. The living room was filled with a nice TV, a yellow-and-orange-plaid armchair that Stan had picked out, and a matching couch in the carpeted side of the room with a beautiful stone wall. Hidden behind a generic painting of the woods was a safe that Ford insisted be built in. Off to the side of the living room was a small tax-desk and a card table. The room was decorated with a fish-tank full of clownfish and royal blue tangs. A record player and radio machine sat on a high shelf that was owned by Hephzie; underneath the shelf was a box full of records. The kitchen and dining area was plain and simple, which was perfect considering no one really knew how to cook like Ma. In fact, one of the first rules in the new house was that under no circumstances was Hephzie allowed to cook anything; she had a bad history of burning everything she touched and no one really felt like losing their new home due to a fire.

The thinking parlor was handsomely furnished with a velvet antique couch, two rocking chairs, a large working desk for Ford, and a smaller one for Hephzie. A soft rug covered the wooden floor by the fireplace and on the back porch, three more rocking chairs sat in the warm sun. The master bedroom held a nice king-sized bed, two dressers, two nightstands, a three-sided mirror, another fireplace, and another big desk for Ford. There was where the married couple were now, as Hephzie made the bed and Ford sat at his desk, organizing notebooks and documents.

"It's a bit of a nuisance to unpack and then have to repack in no less than a week." Ford stated as he glanced over to the two suitcases that held the newlyweds' necessities.

"I guess." Hephzie replied as she placed the pillows at the head of the bed. "But we'll have a few days to relax n' enjoy the house n' then be on our honeymoon!"

"I'm glad you had the idea to wait." Ford said as he stacked some books on his desk, like a tiny shelf. "I can't imagine how chaotic all of this would have been if we had just arrived from Scotland."

"Eh, Stan could've handled it." Hephzie said with a shrug.

Ford rolled his eyes mockingly and resumed his work.

"Have ya made up your mind 'bout the car?" Hephzie asked.

"Yes, my dear. As useful as it was on the move, I'm confident that I won't need it much anymore. If I'm going to be exploring the woods for anomalies, I have a feeling it's best done on foot. And if I really require transportation, I'm sure Stanley won't mind if we use the Stanmobile."

"Alright, but I'd feel better if we put some money aside just in case."

"Of course." Ford said and looked up at his wife. "Which reminds me, now that we have an address to change to, I'll pick up some change-of-address forms the day after tomorrow."

"Oh, I can do that for ya, hon." Hephzie volunteered. "I've gotta go to into town n' change my licence n' name."

"Thank you, but I need to go to the bank anyhow. We still need to create a joint account and move everything into the new account."

"Right," Hephzie said with a nod, remembering another important legal thing they had to do now that they were married. "Okay, so do we want Chinese or pizza?"

Stan knocked on the master bedroom's door quickly before opening it and looking concerned. "Uh, you guys might wanna see this."

Hephzie and Ford followed him out to the back porch and it took a moment to see what Stan could see, but soon the young couple found themselves looking at some sort of weird owl-like creature. It was the size of a barn owl and had the body and talons of one, but it had utters. It also appeared to have the head, eyes, and snout of a cow. The weird creature had big round eyes that stared at the three humans.

"Sweet Lord," Ford breathed in awe and wonder. "Is it some sort of hybrid?"

"If anyone thought their parents were weird, that'll put 'em in their place." Hephzie muttered quietly.

The creature pursed it's lips and let out a soft, "M-Hoo!" It opened it's white wings with black spots and flew off into the night. It was a minute or two before anyone said or did anything, but, of course, Stan was the first to open his big mouth.

"So are we getting Chinese or pizza tonight?"

* * *

 ** _August 9th, 1976_**

The honeymoon to Scotland had been amazing in every way. Not only did Ford and Hephzie manage to track down silkies and leprechauns, but they saw a performance of the play Hamlet, visited many pubs and enjoyed sampling beers and dancing nights away, and touring the grassy hilltops and mountains that decorated the ancient land. As nice as their vacation was, it felt good to be back and get to work.

In his bedroom, standing at his desk, Ford placed a dark red blank journal on his workspace and began to make it his own. He placed his six-fingered hand on a sheet of special golden paper he had made and traced his birth defect carefully with a sharp knife, cutting the paper. When that was done, he used glue to press the golden handprint on his new journal, and having a feeling that it was the first of many more to come, Ford labeled the handprint with the number 1, using black ink and a small paintbrush.

To let the glue and ink dry, he left his bedroom and followed the sounds and smells of bacon cooking in the kitchen. Dressed in a dress shirt, tie, and trenchcoat, Ford sat at the table where Hephzibah was wolfing down her breakfast. He chuckled at her excitement, understanding her enthusiasm. Today was her first day working at the Gravity Falls Hospital as a part-time nurse, specializing in newborns, more specifically infants born prematurely, and those born drug-addicted or suffering from any other disabilities or special circumstances. She had always watched over the newchildren when volunteering, but now she had permission to attend past basic needs like rocking restless babies to sleep. Stan had just sat down with two plates of bacon and eggs when Hephzie looked up at her watch and jumped up from her seat.

"I gotta go."

"Doesn't your shift start at ten, my dear?" Ford asked as he checked his own watch. It was only eight-thirty.

"Yeah, but it's a thirty-minute drive to the hospital from here n' what if there's traffic? What if I get lost? What if the systems aren't workin' n' I have a hard time clockin' in? What if…"

"What if a meteorite crashes into the town and destroys us all?" Stan asked with a roll of his eyes.

Hephzie smacked him over the head teasingly as she drained her mug of coffee and put her dishes in the sink. "I gotta go get ready." And she ran off to get ready to leave.

"Is it just me, or does Hephzie have a few screws loose?" Stan asked with a cocky grin as he munched on his over-easy eggs.

"She's just enthusiastic about her first day of work." Ford said sympathetically. "I too find myself looking forward to the work ahead of us. I want to first become familiar with the terrain, so I was thinking we could drive into town and check the outskirts of the woods."

"Whatever you say, Sixer."

Hephzie ran past the kitchen frantically and slipped her black leather jacket on over her white button-up and she asked, "Stanford, have ya seen my keys?"

He lowered his mug of coffee and pursed his lips to try not to chuckle. "Sweetheart, they're in your hand."

Hephzie looked at her right fist and did indeed find her keys. She sighed and hurried into the kitchen. "Right. I should be home around seven. Don't wait up dinner on me in case I'm late. I love ya." She kissed Ford goodbye, ran for the door, grabbed her helmet from the coat rack, and was gone.

The Mystery Twins spent all day out on the town and actually had a good time. They didn't come across any new anomalies, but they did become much more familiar with Gravity Falls and it's people. Stan managed to get the phone number of a waiter at Greasy's Diner and Ford was fascinated by the museum and town hall, deciding to check those out tomorrow.

When they went home it was about six o'clock, so they went ahead and cooked spaghetti for dinner and it was just about ready when they heard the door quietly open and close. Ford paused at setting the table and poked his head out into the hall to greet his wife, but frown with concern when he found her silent and slow as she took off her helmet and jacket and hung them up.

"Hephzibah," Ford said and walked up to her. "How was work?" He asked, having a good idea already that it had been a horrible first day.

Hephzie finally looked at him and nodded casually. "It was good."

"Are you sure?" Ford asked and took a step closer, his hands hovering by her shoulders to comfort her if she wanted him to do so.

Hephzie took in a deep breath through the nose and managed to create a half-convincing smile. "M'fine, just… just had a long day."

Ford nodded, understanding how draining the first day of work can be, and kissed her in greetings. "Well, dinner's ready."

Hephzie followed him into the kitchen and happily sat and ate. Stan asked what happened on her first day, but Hephzie got quiet and asked the men what happened to them. The two sensed her want to steer the conversation away from herself, so they chatted away about their day exploring the town and Hephzie listened as she ate her dinner. When the meal was finished, the woman in dreadlocks stood up and said, "I'm gonna go ahead n' go to bed."

Ford looked at her more concerned now than ever. "Are you feeling alright?" He even placed the back of his hand on her forehead to feel if she was hot.

Hephzibah chuckled and said, "M'fine, I've just got a lot on my mind. Plus, I didn't sleep well last night. Too excited, ya know? Now that the adrenaline's gone…"

Ford didn't buy it, but he nodded his head, kissed her goodnight, and let her go. He glanced at the silver watch she had given to him for his eighteenth birthday and sighed. It wasn't even eight o'clock yet.

* * *

Hephzibah laid in bed forever, her back to the door, but she didn't fall asleep. Her mind was too full to even think about drifting to sleep, but she didn't want to do anything else but lay there. It must have been late when Stanford finally came into the room for bed. He was silent preparing for bed as Hephzibah pretended to be asleep. She could hear his drawer opening for his blue-striped pajamas, she could hear him wash up for the night in their bathroom, and she soon felt the covers over her lift for a moment as he climbed into bed. She felt a kiss being planted on her cheek and then she was left alone for the rest of the night.

* * *

The next day at work was a bit better, but Hephzibah still felt numb, but the minute she saw that cabin, that home that held her husband and best friend, she smiled a true smile and walked right in like all was right with the world. Over dinner and a game of poker, it felt like everything was back to normal, until night came and Hephzibah awoke around two in the morning from a nightmare.

Sitting up, she covered her mouth with her hand in case she was too loud and woke up her husband, but Stanford laid on his right side peacefully, facing her in his sleep as he snored quietly. Hephzibah smiled at seeing her husband sleep and ran a hand through his hair softly. She had heard about this happening to new nurses and doctors, but she thought she was tougher than this. She thought she was stronger than this. What kind of a wuss was she? Could she even do this job? Only two days in and she was already having nightmares!

Hephzibah got out of bed slowly as to not wake Stanford and she left the room, unaware that when she closed the door, he heard it and opened his eyes. He sat up when he saw that his wife wasn't in the bed with him and he slipped on his glasses to see if maybe she was in the bathroom or still in the room. In the moonlight, he could see that Hephzibah was gone and so he sighed, slipped on his slippers and robe over his pajamas, and went out to comfort her.

It didn't take long. The living room and kitchen were empty, so Stanford opened the back door and found her rocking in a chair and watching the clouds drift by the moon. He sat in the rocking chair next to her and looked out into the woods alongside her.

"Did I wake ya?" Hephzibah asked.

"No." Stanford said lightly and made up a quick white lie. "Bathroom."

"Hm." Hephzibah only looked out into the forest and sat quietly, a fair sign that something was wrong. She wasn't exactly a chatterbox, but she was a talkative young woman, a social butterfly, and a musician. Even if she didn't feel like talking, she would be humming as she watched the woods, but she was silent. Up until she muttered under her breath, "I ain't cut out for this…"

"What?" Stanford asked gently, his wife's voice had been so quiet it was hard to detect exactly what she said, and even if she had said what Stanford thought she said, it didn't make any sense.

Hephzibah sighed and held her head. "What was I thinkin'? I can't be a doctor. I ain't cut out for it."

"Now, hold on, darling," Stanford said and leaned forward in his chair. "It's only been two days. You're getting used to a new place and a new job. I'm sure it is hard, but all first days tend to be difficult."

"Did ya have someone die in your arms on your first day at work?" Hephzibah asked bitterly, not even meeting his eyes.

Stanford swallowed. That made sense. If Hephzibah worked with newborns and was aiming to be certified to specify with newchildren under abnormal circumstances - such as premature births, drug-addicted babies, and orphaned children who weren't even a day old yet - it should come as no surprise that her first day had shocked her beyond belief. "Well… no, I didn't." Stanford admitted and held her free hand. "You've chosen a very… admirable career, Hephzibah. There's a reason why the competition for your job is miniscule. I'm sorry that it's a difficult job and that you'll see the best and worst of human beings, but for what it's worth, I'm very proud of you and your line of work."

Hephzibah gave a heavy sigh like the whole world was on her shoulders. She sat up in her chair, letting go of her head, and she gave Stanford's hand a soft squeeze. "Thanks."

Stanford nodded with a smile, glad to help his wife, and he turned his gaze back to the clouds as they swam past the moon above them. "Besides, I think you were destined to become a doctor. Ever since we were children. Don't you remember all those years of helping Stanley and I every time we were injured? When the gang jumped up? Or our boxing matches? Heck, you once fixed Stanley's broken nose!"

Hephzibah chuckled humbly, remembering each time she would stand in the bathroom and use the first aid kit to fix up the boys from run-ins with Crampelter and his cronies, or give them ice packs when Demetri's cousin and his gang had jumped the twins, or during their junior year of high-school when Stanley had a huge boxing match and left with a medal and a broken nose. She can distinctly remember marching into the boys' locker room, not caring what she saw or what anyone did, with Stanford right behind her, and she stood in front of Stanley as he sat on a bench and bit down on a towel so Hephzibah could snap his nose back in place.

Hephzibah didn't realize it until Stanford pointed it out, but he was right. She had always tended to injuries and helped people; for years it had just been the twins, but now she was ready to help more people.

* * *

 ** _September 2nd, 1976_**

Stan fought against the rope tying him to his brother with all of his might, but the binding was just too tight and it was hard to move without elbowing Ford in the ribs. Stan looked up at the monsters who had captured the twins, tied them up, and was preparing to offer the humans as offerings to their leader, Leaderaur. Stan used to think that these Manotaur guys were a lot of fun, but now these assholes were going to offer him and his brother as sacrifices to some demigod or whatever the hell he was.

Ford was looking around the cave they were in, searching for some sort of way out of this one. In the one month of investigations they had already solved quite a few problems, like escaping from a flooding cave and taking down rabid rabbits. Even as children, the twins always managed to get out of whatever trouble they had gotten themselves into, and so in order to keep calm, Ford kept that in mind to try to think his way out of this situation, but it looked like brains wasn't going to earn him and his brother their freedom.

"You just had to bruise his ego, didn't you?" Ford snarled in annoyance with his brother stuck to his back.

"Hey, it's not my fault the guy's a wuss!" Stan snapped.

Some of the half-man half-tour creatures got on their knees and others used their horns and bones as drums for the arrival of their leader. Ford and Stan froze in anticipation of the beast's arrival, and when he stepped out of the tunnel and appeared, the Pines twins wondered if they were meeting the New Jersey Devil again. This Manotaur was at least two stories tall, maybe even three, extremely muscular, red-skinned like leather, and was decorated with many battle scars, including one over his eye, the same eye gray with blindness, but the other eye was sharp. Ford swallowed nervously and Stan couldn't think of a snarky comment.

"Off-er-ing! Off-er-ing!" The Manotaurs chanted as the meal for their king drew closer.

"Okay, Stanley," Ford said in a trying-to-stay-calm-but-failing-miserably tone. "Just in case this is it, there's a few things I'd like to get off of my conscience. Last week, I ate one of Hephzibah's oreos and told her you did it so she retaliated by eating your toffee peanuts!"

"Okay, I admit it!" Stan yelled. "Yes, I accidently threw a red sock in with the whites and now all of her bras are pink! I was weirded out by washing her clothes, okay?!"

"Remember when we were in the fourth grade and you were assigned to look after Squeaks for the weekend? Well, he didn't die of old age. I… may have accidentally killed him."

"You WHAT?!"

"I'm sorry! I gave him a tomato and he ate the leaf, which is apparently harmful to hamsters!"

"STANFORD! I can't believe you killed Squeaks!"

"I'm sorry, Stanley!"

"So I guess you won't be mad at me when I tell you that I was the one that threw your book in the ocean, not Crampelter?"

"You WHAT?!"

"I was mad about the stupid homework and thought I had thrown my textbook, but I had grabbed your book instead and didn't know until it was too late!"

"I had saved up for months to buy that book!"

"I know, I'm sorry!"

This could have gone on for some time, but Leaderaur peered down at the humans and growled. The twins braced themselves for impact of sharp teeth crushing them, but a strong yell from the mouth of the cave drew everyone's attention.

"Stanford Filbrick Pines, ya've a lot of explainin' to do, young man!"

The twins looked to find Hephzie standing at the entrance of the cave, furious with her hands on her hips and a scary look on her face. For a moment, Ford was happy to see her, but then terrified for her life, but then terrified for his own life when he saw how angry she was. The Manotaurs freaked out over the presence of the female human. One Manotaur screamed like a little girl, and another pointed and yelled, "WOMAN!" The Manotaurs stepped backwards to the walls of the cave, making a clear path to the tied-up twins.

Hephzie marched over to them and yelled, "I asked ya to do one thang today! N' I come home to find out that the dishes STILL aren't done?!"

Ford winced as he realized his fatal mistake. In the midst of everything that had happened today, he had completely forgotten that his wife had asked him to do the dishes. "Hephzibah, sweetheart, I'm sorry, but I got a little tied up."

"Don't ya make puns at me, mister!" Hephzie snapped as she finally reached the men and she caught Stan snickering. She smacked him over the head and yelled, "You're not off the hook, either, Knucklehead! Ya didn't even bother to do the laundry n' now I'm outta clean clothes for work!"

Stan also winced at remembering that he had totally forgotten the chore he had been assigned. "Right, sorry…"

"Not as sorry as you're gonna be when I drag your asses home!" Hephzie yelled and bent down to try to untie the ropes.

Leaderaur growled and pointed at the woman. "Who do you think…"

"Oh, nu, uh!" Hephzie snapped her fingers and stood up to yell at the giant monster. "Nu, uh! Don't give me that tone or you're _gonna get it!_ "

"I…"

"SIT DOWN!" She snapped and the leader did as he was told quick as he could, bending his hooves as he sat. "Boy, do NOT test me! Don't ya dare think ya can touch _my boys_ n' get away with it! You're lucky I'm gonna be too busy kickin' these two idiots' asses to kick your ass, or else I'd yank out that foul tongue of yours n' use it to hang ya from the ceilin'!"

Leaderaur paled.

Ford stared with a mixture of fear and amazement over his wife.

The woman in dreadlocks turned back to the humans and demanded, "Now I want an explanation!"

"Well, we…"

"Shut up, don't even look at me!" Hephzie snapped at Stan and both men bowed their heads low. "I can't believe ya two! Completely disregarded… _look at me when I'm talkin' to ya!_ "

Stan leaned in on his brother. "Do you have any idea what we're supposed to do?"

Hephzie bent down and rummaged through Stan's jeans for his pocket knife to cut the men loose, muttering things like "gotta do all the work" and "irresponsible" and other wifey things to complain about. Eventually she found the knife, cut the ropes, and helped the twins up. She then whipped around the crowd of Manotaurs still cowering at the walls of the cave and yelled, "N' if any one of ya even touches a hair on their heads, you'll have to answer to me n' I'll make ya rue the day ya were born! UNDERSTAND?!" A few of them muttered in agreement, but that wasn't good enough. "SPEAK CLEARLY WHEN YA TALK!"

"Yes!" The groups squeaked.

"YES, _WHAT?!_ "

"Yes, ma'am!"

"That's better." Hephzie said calmly and led the way out of the cave. Ford and Stan followed her tenderly, but Ford had one last thing to say to the monsters.

"That's my wife, suckers." He snarled and then left.

Once out in the clean afternoon air, Hephzie sighed happily, face relaxed and tone calmed, and said, "That was fun. Let's go home."

"Wait, hold up," Stan said and cautiously asked, "You're… not mad?"

"Nah, not really." Hephzie said with a shrug. "But those thangs are Manotaurs, right? So I thought, 'Well what scares a man more than anythang?' N' then it hit me: an angry woman."

Ford blinked at her like a startled owl. "Oh my God, Hephzibah, that was brilliant!"

"Oh, shut up n' let's get goin'." Hephzie said as she blushed slightly and led the way down the mountain side. "Y'all still gotta do those chores."


	25. A Friend

**_September 9th, 1976_**

Stan woke up like any other morning, but he caught something out of the corner of his eye and stopped outside the living room. He raised an eyebrow at seeing Hephzie curled up on the couch like a bunny, holding a pillow with her arms and snuggling one side of her face into it, but she didn't have a smile or stress from a nightmare; she looked like she had fallen asleep only because she no longer had the strength to stay awake.

Stan placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed it. "Hephzie… Hephzie."

The woman with dreadlocks blinked her eyes open to adjust to the light and looked up at her brother-in-law. "Stan…?"

"What are you doing sleeping on the couch? When did you get home last night?"

Hephzie's eyes darted to the owl-clock on the wall. "An hour ago." She muttered.

"You were supposed to get off at three!" Stan remembered. "How come you were five hours late?!"

"Nurses called in sick." Hephzie mumbled as she closed her eyes. "New Years babies bein' born…"

Stan was lost for a moment and gave her a skeptical look, unsure what she meant at first, but then realized that there must be a lot of babies being born around September or the end of August if parents had celebrated the coming of the New Year enthusiastically. Plus, the staff was super strict about workers being in perfect health before coming into work, to the point where even if a nurse had the sniffles they couldn't come in. "Got it." Stan said and stood up straight. "Well, you should get to bed."

"Mm."

"C'mon, Hephzie." Stan said and gave her shoulder a shake to help wake her up. "You should sleep in your own bed."

Hephzie, without opening her eyes, unwrapped her arms from the pillow and held them out to Stan. "Carry me." She said in a pleading, pitiful tone.

Stan sighed to himself. He scooped the young lady up bridal-style and lifted with his knees. With her arms wrapped around his neck gently and her face nuzzling in his shoulder, he carried her down the hall and for her bedroom. "I swear, you two are running me ragged." Stan teased as he carried Hephzie. "Last night I had to drag Ford's ass to bed from the thinking parlor at two in the morning, still working on that stupid carpet. And now you're taking extra shifts and beating yourself into the dirt."

"I need to, Stan…"

"Yeah, that's what Poindexter says, too." Stan interrupted. "Ya know something, sis, when you first started dating him, I thought 'Finally, someone else to babysit Ford and make sure he actually eats and sleep'. While I was… while you guys were at college, I thought 'Hey, at least Hephzie's making sure Ford doesn't kill himself', but you're just as bad as him."

"M'not." Hephzie slurred into Stan's bare chest, seeing how he was only wearing red-plaid pajama-pants. "V dragged 'm out of lib'ary million time."

"Well, then you two are just a pair of hypocrites, aren't ya?" Stan teased and stopped outside the master bedroom's door. He hesitated to say this, but Hephzie was so tired she'd probably forget, anyways. "Ya know something else, sis, I thought about getting a job. I only agreed to move in with you guys cuz that's what ya wanted, but I knew you'd get sick of me at some point, so I thought I'd get a job and get my own place by Thanksgiving. I'd still be in town, but at… at least I wouldn't be riding on your coattails." Stan shook his head to try to ignore the voices in his head and he quickly added, "But you two clearly need me to babysit you and make sure you don't end up drowning yourselves in your jobs, like going 'till you drop in the hospital or don't get crushed by some freaky tree-giant. So, I'm sorry, but you're stuck with me."

Hephzie held Stan a little tighter, but not so tight it hurt his neck. "Good."

Stan could feel his face get hot and he gently put Hephzie on her feet so he could open the door. Surprisingly quiet, Stan managed to carry her into the dark bedroom, where Ford was snoring loudly, indicating he was sleeping soundly. With Hephzie almost fully asleep in his arms, Stan laid her on the left side of the queen-sized bed and used an extra blanket to tuck her in so he wouldn't have to try to get her under the covers.

To make sure Ford didn't wake up, Stan settled with squeezing her shoulder before closing the door and sighing to himself. What on Earth is Stan gonna do with those two workaholics?

* * *

 ** _September 17th, 1976_**

Fiddleford and Maddie invited Hephzie, Ford and Stan to their own wedding in Tennessee. Maddie made Hephzie maid of honor and Ford was the best man. The wedding had been in a small church and then the reception was held in a very big, luxurious barn, so clean that it had clearly never been touched by animals.

The McGucket wedding wasn't anything like the Pines wedding; it was a huge celebration, mostly made up of crazy McGuckets who loved to drink, tell stories, dance, and just have a good time.

Todd Jr., the eldest McGucket sibling, was going to own the hog farm when their father was gone, but the original Old Man McGucket was a hard worker, so the two operated the farm together, taking quite a dip since most of the children had moved out and could no longer help. Todd was a wise, gentle soul who was almost like a second-father to most of his siblings. He had a wife named Mary and had children already: a curious six-year-old named Jefferson, and a beautiful four-year-old named Caroline, who were both dancing on the dance floor, stomping their feet as Jefferson tried to teach Caroline how to dance. Todd was a muscular, tall young man with sparkling brown eyes like Fiddleford's, but blond hair and a short beard.

Montgomery, who owned his own shoe-repair store, seemed to always have his hands dirty; they may even be dyed brown permanently. Regardless, no one cared that it clashed with his suit and he happily introduced his girlfriend to Fiddleford, a chubby young lady named Loretta with rosy cheeks and was the local pastor's daughter. She was the talented baker who had actually made the wedding cake for free and she proved to have an amazing sense of humor. To this day, Fiddleford and his brothers are still confused as to how Mellow-Monty got together with such a jolly, fun woman. Monty was very quiet, but sweet as honey.

Bartholomew was the closest brother to Fiddleford, not just by age but also by relationship. They inspired each other. Bart always stood up for Fiddleford' inventions, even when they caused trouble as children, and Fiddleford encouraged Bart to go to college; he was now in the midst of his senior year of college and had been accepted to law school, his dream job being a lawyer. Bart almost looked nothing like Fiddleford (Fiddleford favored Papa while Bart favored Mama), but personality-wise they were nearly identical, always quick to give a hug or comforting words and sharp as a knife when it came to intelligence. Ford found that he liked Bart and enjoyed chatting with him.

Maxwell was the troublemaker of the family. He had a habit of causing pranks and dragging his younger brother, Cornellius, into them. Max was a sandy-haired young man who resembled a mouse with his watery eyes, but he had skinny legs and a thin frame. He was a good man, but he never took responsibility for his actions. In fact, at twenty one years old, he worked for his brother and father and already had two kids with his ex-wife, Tabitha. He and Stan, however, had a fun time exchanging stories of mischief and they may or may not have been the reason why Fiddleford's truck was full of birdseed and wrapped up in toilet paper.

Cornelius was the heart and soul of the party, or any party he went to, anyways, dancing with men and women alike and supplying a joyous atmosphere; it was hard to be in a bad mood around him. With hair and glasses that matched Fiddleford's but a rounder frame, he had a jolly laugh and a quick jig, pairing well with the sparkling baby-blue eyes he had inherited from their mother. Cornelius was in college and working towards law school, too, but not to be a lawyer; he dreamed of becoming governor of Tennessee one day, but first he wanted to be a representative. Cornelius merrily danced with Maddie and listened as she chatted away about her excitement over the recent events.

And then there was the baby of the family, but not the least bit spoiled: Jolene. She was the most beautiful girl in their small town, but had never been on a single date thanks to the over protectiveness of her six brothers. She was a tough cookie who had no problems getting her hands dirty or swearing. She had curly blonde hair and sparkling baby-blue eyes, with rosy cheeks, white teeth, and a dimple on her right cheek, but not her left. Jolene happily showed Ford her odd cheeks with a giggling grin. ("Dimple, no dimple. Dimple, no dimple.") Jolene was exactly as Fiddleford described her: the youngest and the toughest McGucket sibling. And yes, the tale of her taking down a grizzly bear with her bare hands at the age of twelve is true.

Stan fitted right in and made friends with Fiddleford's brothers relatively quickly. He had a good time getting to know them and ended up arm-wrestling Todd Jr., Max, Bart, Monty, and Fiddleford, and winning, up until Jolene challenged him and he lost. The only problem was when Fiddleford and Maddie had kissed, becoming husband and wife, and at least eight family members fired a gun, making Stan jump so badly he fell to the floor, giving Ford something to laugh at under the loud cheering.

Hephzie danced the night away and wore her poor husband out, eventually pulling Maddie out onto the dancefloor (after the bride had danced with her uncle and her new husband, of course) and danced with her, tap-dancing in their heels and swinging each other gracefully. Hephzie didn't even care about the slightly-racist comments Fiddleford's Great-Aunt Prudence made, like assuming Hephzie was a waiter (despite her wearing an army-green maid-of-honor's dress) and asking if she could read.

Ford and Fiddleford were happy to sit and chat about their plans for the future. Though the best man didn't have high hopes for Fiddleford's person computers, not many people believed in his investigations in Gravity Falls, so he kept his opinions to himself and merely listened to Fiddleford's plans to move into a nice house in Palo Alto, California in hopes of getting his small company off the ground.

Though the newlyweds were happy to let family members play for them during their first dance, most of the wedding the two played their own instruments, fiddle and banjo harmonizing in that beautiful barn decorated with sunflowers and full of loved ones from all across the country. At the end of it all, the happy couple drove off, changed into their casual wear (except Maddie wore a white blouse with a blue-jean skirt and Fiddleford wore his usual suit jacket, dress-shirt and necktie), for the airport where they would depart for Hawaii. The night didn't end as luxurious for the Pines, as Ford proved to be a bit of a lightweight and didn't necessarily get drunk, but had to be dragged back to the hotel room while Hephzie stayed behind to help the McGuckets and Ingrids clean up the barn.

* * *

 ** _October 20th, 1976_**

Ford stood at the mouth of a bat cave that didn't house a superhero, but anomalies. Stan handed him a butterfly net that he had pulled from the red Diablo and the two twins braced themselves.

"Now, as far as I can tell, they're relatively harmless," Ford explained. "So just be wary and make sure you don't get lost."

"Got it." Stan asked and held his net like a rifle, ready to attack the enemy. "Ya got something to hold these suckers in?"

Ford pulled back his trenchcoat to show where he had stuffed a pocket with a big jar. Stan nodded in approval and the two slowly crept into the cave by the lake. It was pitch black and soon the moonlight didn't reach the cave, but they couldn't provide any light like a lantern or risk losing what they were looking for. They had both seen these creatures here and there and now was a good chance to get a closer look. It got so dark that neither twin could see the other, but a small source of light told them they were about to find what they were looking for.

Stan and Ford walked on and were soon met with a small group of floating eyeballs, but the small glow coming from the balls of white showed that they weren't floating, but flying with bat-like wings. The Mystery Twins ran forward and started to catch the eye-bats for science. It was like an extreme game of catch. There had been so fireflies at Glass Shard Beach for the boys to catch as children, but there were plenty of seagulls to try to catch just for the heck of it, tiptoeing towards the poor bird and then launching at it, only to have it fly away just in time.

But the Eyebats were no match for the twins. It wasn't long before the jar filled up full of the Eyebats, not to be confused with the Floating Eyes (which Ford decided he and Stan would investigate another time. One anomaly at a time, please). Ford placed the jar on his desk in the thinking parlor and began to sketch the strange creature in his journal, his brother behind him on the couch as he sipped from a can of Pitt soda.

* * *

 ** _February 25th, 1977_**

One cold winter night, as they all sat in the living room playing poker on the card table, Hephzie sighed and slammed her cards down. "That's it, I fold."

"Tough luck, sis." Stan sneered and showed his cards. He had a royal flush, making Ford and Hephzie groan, and the conartist laughed as he dragged the oreos towards him, playing with cookies instead of coins.

Hephzie managed to snag one and pop it into her mouth before anyone could stop her. Ford gathered up all the cards to shuffle, not trusting his brother to do so fairly (Plus, having six fingers proved to be an advantage when it came to shadow-puppets, playing the piano, and shuffling cards or rolling dice).

The phone rang from the hall and Hephzie got up to get it. "Guard my cards with your life, Fordsie." She instructed and left to answer the phone call.

Ford shuffled the cards and was passing them out. He kept an ear on his wife; it wasn't uncommon for her to get a call from the hospital requesting that she come in and help, so he mentally prepared himself for her to have to rush out the door and help with a delivery or cover a nurse so they could help in another department.

"Hephzibah Pines speakin'." There was a pause, and then she said in a slightly nervous tone, "Yes, he is. Is everythang okay?"

There was an even longer pause. Ford stopped shuffling the cards and listened. When Stan noticed this, he listened as well. They could hear Hephzie say things in a shocked tone like "oh" and "uh, hu" and "yes, ma'am".

Finally she concluded with a strained voice, "Yes, I'll…. I'll be there as soon as I can. Please, just…. do whatever ya can. Thanks... thanks. Goodbye."

They heard the phone being hung back up on the wall, and then what sounded like Hephzie laying against the wall and sliding down to the floor. Ford quickly got up to check on her, with Stan right behind him, and they stared at Hephzie as she held her knees, buried her face in her arms, and may or may not be crying; it was too hard to tell right now. Regardless, Ford sat on her right side and put an arm around her, waiting patiently for her to express what had upset her so much. Meanwhile, he racked his brain for what could have upset her. His eyes widened and his heart ached as he realized that only one thing could upset Hephzie like this.

She let go of her knees, wrapped her arms around her husband's chest, and cried gently into his black sweater.

At least she got to say goodbye to Grandpa. The last thing the old man felt while lying on that hospital bed was his granddaughter's hand that held his own and a kiss she planted on his thin cheek. He died just in time to miss the tears she cried, or the wails of misery that escaped her lips.

* * *

 ** _April 19th, 1977_**

Ford was running from a band of angry unicorns, one of which had a bloody nose. Stan had lost his temper when dealing with an annoying unicorn and punched it, causing her and her friends to rally up and start galloping towards the humans for revenge. The twins stomped over gnomes, swatted away fairies, and stumbled over toadstools before leaving the magical part of the forest.

Once they were safe, as Stan wiped away the rainbow blood from his fist, his twin yelled sarcastically, "Nicely done, Stanley!"

* * *

 ** _July 10th, 1977_**

One year. They had been married for one year. Sure, some days are harder than others and the two had to work hard at their relationship, but Stanford found that he loved Hephzibah more now than he did when he first married her and he knew that he would love her more every day.

Knowing what to do for their first anniversary was difficult. Stanford wanted to do something special, but nothing too big, but nothing too small, either. He ended up taking Hephzibah out to the nicest restaurant in town, The Club, but once they were there they found they wanted nothing more than to be back home.

Stanley had gone out to the lodge and wouldn't be back until late at night, giving the couple the freedom to do whatever they please. Their gifts to each other had been something nobody would think to give, but they both loved it: pajamas. Stanford was given nice maroon PJs and new matching slippers. Hephzibah was given a silk light-purple robe and several pairs of fuzzy socks. The gifts left each person smiling and excited to try on their cozy pajamas. However, that wasn't the end of the gift exchange.

Hephzibah excused herself to the master bathroom and changed into special pajamas she had been saving for their anniversary. Stanford, meanwhile, quickly pulled out red roses he had stowed away, littered the bed with petals, and pulled out a bottle of red wine, two glasses, and worked quickly to light candles that littered the nightstands, Stanford's dresser, and his desk. He also pulled out the little radio and turn to the station that played smooth jazz. He managed to sit on the bed in his new maroon pajamas just as his wife came out of the bathroom, dressed in an outfit that looked like what would have been in stores around Valentine's Day. Her lips had the tiniest bit of gloss to keep them smooth, her dreadlocks down from her ponytail, and her figured decorated with a white lace gown that was tight around the curves, low around the chest, and loose around the legs. There were cuts that exposed Hephzibah's slim legs and thin straps that laced over her naked back and shoulders. She walked out, giving Stanford a full-view by giving a spin, and she placed her hands on the bottom of the bed and bent down.

"Well, what do ya think?" Hephzibah hissed.

Stanford gulped as that familiar squirm in his gut slithered into his system. His instincts told him to tear that gown off of her like a wild animal, but logic told him that they would both enjoy themselves much more if they were slow. Stanford open and closed his mouth, but no words came out.

Hephzibah's chuckle was as smooth and sweet as honey. "I've still got it." She slipped onto the bed and over the rose petals until she was right by her husband's side. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and down to her breast, and slowly kissed her. Hephzibah grabbed onto the collar of his button-up pajamas and pulled him closer. Slowly, Hephzibah pulled Stanford on top of her and she laid on her back while he massaged her breasts, not once breaking their deep kiss. Hephzibah would, every so often, turn her head away for breath or a moan, but she always returned.

Stanford took a break and popped open the bottle of red wine, for once not caring if they spilt wine of the bed as he poured out two small glasses. They toasted before sipping slowly and soon resuming their kiss. They somehow managed to sit the glasses on their nightstands and Hephzibah was soon on top of her husband, unbuttoning the top half of his shirt and tracing his toned chest with her fingertips, making his spine shiver. Hephzibah not only kissed his lips, but his cheek, his cleft chin, his neck, and the top of his chest, slowly blessing every inch of his face and neck with her kiss.

Stanford was jelly under her and found he could do nothing but marvel at how she could make him feel. He kissed the top of her head while she kissed the base of his neck and their lips met once more.

* * *

 ** _March 13th 1978_**

Fiddleford was finally alone in the comfort of his own home. Well, not entirely alone. There was the baby in the crib. And his wife was in the bed next to him.

The new father looked down at Madeline, who was sleeping soundly for the first time in nearly two days. Fiddleford smiled affectionately at her and admired her strength and beauty. She had already given him so much and now she had given him a son.

Fiddleford averted his eyes to the crib that sat at the foot of the queen-sized bed. No noise came from it, but he had an urge to look inside. Knowing there was a good chance he'd wake the baby and that his choice wasn't wise, he ignored logic entirely and got up from the bed quietly. Fiddleford peered down into the crib and smiled surprisingly to find the newborn wrapped up in his blanket, his eyes open, wide awake, but he did not cry or wail or even whimper. He looked perfectly content with laying in the crib and staring at the ceiling, until he saw his father and looked up at him curiously, as if studying him.

"Hello," Fiddleford whispered and gently tickled his chin with his pointer finger, but of course the baby didn't laugh or smile (he was too young for that) but there was a sparkle in his eyes that told Fiddleford that if the baby could smile or laugh he would. "Couldn't sleep either, huh, son?"

As predicted, the newborn didn't answer. To give them both something to do, Fiddleford gently picked up his son and decided to go into the living room to leave Maddie to sleep in peace. He walked silently down the hall and began to pace the living room and mutter gently to the baby boy.

"I reckon ya should be asleep, Tater, but I suppose I can't judge ya terribly for lyin' awake. Like father, like son, after all."

Fiddleford's eyes caught the large pile of gifts on the dining table from family and friends. His five brothers had all gotten him something, as well as his little sister, his parents, Madeline's aunt and uncle, old Mrs. Donald, their next-door neighbor, and Hephzibah, Stanford, and Stanley. Clothes, diapers, blankets and toys alike had all been given to help prepare for Tater's arrival, as well as a few gifts for the new parents. Stanley had even bought them earplugs.

Fiddleford smiled at the dysfunctional arrangements of gifts on the table. So many loved ones had come out to Palo Alto to help and support the little McGucket family. So many people had looked out and cared for them in this chaotic and joyous time. Change was still a little bit scary - only a fool would deny that - but thanks to the support of family and friends, it was happening smoothly, and the new father found that he was not only excited, but also confident in his… no, in their future.

* * *

 ** _August 31st, 1980_**

Ford brewed the coffee and patiently waited for the caffeine to finish dripping into the pot so he could wake up properly. He was in a funk, at a low point, fresh out of ideas. He felt drained, useless, unable to think. He was sinking and no one, not even Stan or Hephzie, could pull him out. He would have to climb out on his own. Once the coffee was done, Ford poured himself a cup, sweetened it the way he liked it, and then headed to the thinking parlor to try to think his way out of the situation.

He put his mug down on an end table and stood in front of a big chalkboard on which he had worked on late last night. A jumbled mess of equations, drawings of creature, and copies of symbols and codes littered the board, all pointing to a big red question mark. Ford tried to think, to push his mind to extremes, to try to think of what connected them all, but all he could do was grit his teeth and slam a fist onto the board. He hung his head low and tightly shut his eyes. He had hit a roadblock.

Ford heard footsteps and he found his wife walking up to him, a mug of coffee in her hands and her soft purple robe covering her body, already dressed in grey sweatpants and a black t-shirt. She held the mug with both hands and sipped her joe with a concerned look on her face. "Still frustrated?" Hephzie guessed.

Ford sighed heavily and hung his head low once more. "Yes."

"'Bout?" Hephzie asked as she sat on the couch with her legs by her side.

"There's got to be something that connects all of these anomalies! If I can't find it, than all of my hard work towards the Gravity Falls Theory of Unified Weirdness will be for nothing!" The scientist vented. "How can I prove a theory that doesn't even exist?!"

"Well, do ya believe there's a connection?"

"I do." Ford said firmly and clenched his fist tighter, digging his nails into his palm. "I can feel it in my gut… but nothing's turning up…"

"It's only been four years, Brainiac." Hephzie reminded him, even using an old childhood nickname to try to lighten the mood. "You'll find what you're lookin' for, ya just gotta be patient."

"Right," Ford said through gritted teeth. He took in a deep breath, let it go, and then removed his fist from the board and turned towards the couch. He then stood by it, sipping his coffee, and checked the time. "Where the hell is Stanley?!" He demanded, a little surprised by the time. "We were supposed to investigate Trembley Falls today."

Hephzie rolled her eyes, knowing that her advice about being patient was going in one ear and out the other. "He's still asleep. I'll get him, ya just sit n' relax." She got up with her mug of coffee and left the room.

Ford sighed and collapsed on the velvet couch. He sipped his cup of caffeine as he stared blindly at the giant question mark that haunted him. That sign used to excite him; it used to remind them that there were still questions that needed answers, and that he could provide the answers, but for the first time in his life he couldn't find what he was looking for, and it frustrated him far more than he thought it would. Ford tried to relax, to calm down and remind himself that he did have all the time in the world, but how long would it be before someone else came up here and beat him to the punch? How long would it take to find what he was looking for? How much longer would he have to be patient?

A few minutes later and Ford went to the kitchen to get some more coffee, he passed by the bathroom and heard someone vomiting. He cringed, his stomach turning at the sound, and he hurried on his merry way to the kitchen. When he passed by the bathroom again, this time with a full mug in his six-fingered hands, Hephzie stepped out and sighed.

"Are you alright?" Ford asked concerned that she was sick.

" _I'm_ just fine." Hephzie answered and jabbed her thumb back towards the bathroom. "Stan, on the other hand, is sick. He's got a fever n' he' shiverin' all over. Probably the flu."

Ford winced sympathetically for his twin and asked, "Will he be okay?"

"He'll be fine, Fordsie." Hephzie said calmly. "But knowin' how ya two function, it's only a matter of time before ya get sick, too, so why don't ya get outta the house n' go see Trembley Falls? I'll stay here n' take care of Stan."

Ford couldn't agree more, so he pocketed his second journal, took a lantern with him, kissed his wife goodbye, and started to hike towards the Falls.

The trip proved to be an all-day affair. By noon he had found the mouth of a cave hidden by Trembley Falls. Kept warm by his sweater and trenchcoat and guided by the light of his lantern, he ventured into the cave. It was incredible. If Ford had to make a hypothesis, the Natives of Gravity Falls had built a series of maze-like tunnels in the mountains in order to escape from the creature that would surely enjoy a human for a meal. The tunnels reminded Ford of the ones ants build, each colony working together to build a complex set of tunnels and rooms to serve as their forever home. Fortunately, the caves under Trembley Falls were not that complex and it was simple enough to remember where you were if you paid attention to the painting and writing on the walls. Most of them were stories of hunting down bears and deers, others were folktales of gods and other mythical creatures, some Ford had met in the four years he and his family had been investigating Gravity Falls, some he suspected never even existed.

Deeper into the cave, hidden behind cobwebs so thick they were like cotton, an image of a triangle with an eye in it's center caught Ford's attention. He held back the webs and studied the drawings. Dozens of humans were drawn to the triangle, some on their knees, some reaching out desperately. Surrounding the drawing, in the Native's language (which Ford understood well), told a tale of a being with answers. The description was vague, but it told of a being with a higher intelligence than anything and anyone on Earth, and how to summon it. Ford gave the idea some thought and looked at the words painted onto the wall. It gave a warning not to read the inscription aloud, but he strongly considered it.

No one else could help him. He was alone this time. Hephzibah and Stanley were intelligent in their own right and would surely try to help Stanford, but they couldn't. No one could give him the answers he needed, no one could guide him in the right direction, but maybe this being could. Even if it was just another false god, what was the harm in trying it? You miss all the shots you don't take, after all.

And so he read the inscription aloud.

But nothing happened.

Ford shrugged. He didn't really think it would work. He began to wander around the cave some more until he saw just how much deeper it ran. There was so much to discover, and it would be unfair to see it all while his brother laid at home ill. Ford sighed to himself, sat in front of the drawing and incantation that had caught his eye, and recorded it into Journal 2 by the lamp light. Once he had entered a good entry and sketched what he wanted, he found himself getting cold in the cave, having no source of heat, even at the end of the summer, so Ford stood and left the cave. Hungry, he decided to go home for lunch and then maybe go on a hike to avoid getting sick.

It was a good thing he came home when he did, because when he entered the house called out that he was home, his wife greeted him from the kitchen. Eyes wide with superstition, he raced to the kitchen to find her chopping up vegetables like carrots, onions, celery, and potatoes, by a pot full of boiling water.

"Hephzibah," Ford said as he joined her and cautiously looked to see if she had actually cooked anything yet. "What on Earth are you doing?"

"Making Stan some beef stew." Hephzie said casually. "I didn't expect ya home until dinner. Everythang go okay at the caves?"

"It was fine," Ford answered. "I just fancied grabbing lunch and then getting some research done. It made more sense to get some book-reading done with Stanley out of commission. How is he?" He added.

"He's fine." Hephzie said casually as she scooped up the veggies and put them in a separate bowl to add after cooking the meat. "Pitiful. Tried to get outta bed n' say he was fine, but then he nearly passed out."

Ford chuckled and shook his head. To make sure nothing got burned, once Hephzie finished chopping up the meat he cooked it for her and he added the veggies when ready. It wasn't the best stew in the world when they were done, but it would help Stan. Hephzie delivered his lunch and instructed that Ford keep his distance. Not really enjoying the idea of getting sick, he quickly ate a bowl of stew, changed out of his sweater and coat and into his golden long-sleeved button-up, grabbed some books, and went outside to go read in the woods.

Completely opposite to the cold, damp, dark caves under Trembley Falls, the woods were warm, dry, and bright, but not too bright where the sun hurt his eyes. Ford tried to focus on reading, but his mind began to wander. He hadn't been sleeping long enough the past few nights, trying to work through his roadblock, and the sun was making him drowsy. Ford rolled up his sleeves to try to cool down and he shook his head to try to clear his mind, and then he resumed his reading. Leaning against a tree on a little hill, Ford found himself dangerously comfortable, but didn't have the strength to change his sitting arrangement. He managed to finish the book he was reading and he closed it, letting out a puff of air and he tempted himself to close his eyes for five minutes to congratulate himself on finishing the book. Then it would be off to the next one.

* * *

 _He was floating. No, he could walk. No, there was no ground around him; he was in space, and yet he could walk as if he was on Earth. Strange. Even stranger, he wasn't just among the stars, but materials such as his journals, blue books with golden handprints yet to be touched, clocks, equations, scientific equipment._

 _Mesmerized and having a desire to keep answers, Stanford walked onward in his sweater and trenchcoat. The more he looked around, the more everything seemed familiar, like he was revisiting a dream, or like he was reliving a memory. No, he had never been here before, he would think he would remember a place like this. So why was it so familiar? Stanford saw a long sheet of paper, almost like a scroll, and he brought it down to his eyes so he could read it? Was this his work? He recognized the handwriting and drawings as his own. But why…_

 _A shadow stole some of the light Stanford was using to read the scroll. He turned away with a raised eyebrow and his jaw dropped at seeing something unlike anything he had yet to see. It was a triangle, a golden brick one, with little black arms and legs. It had a giant eye in the center of the body, and a tiny black bowtie and tophat. If Stanford had to guess, it was male. He'd also have to guess that this was the being the Natives of Gravity Falls had guided him towards._

 _"Hiya, smart guy!" The triangle greeted with a small wave, his voice echoing and his body glowing. He had no mouth in which his words escaped from. He wasn't "walking" or "standing" like Stanford was; he floated so he was eye-level with the human and he was about the size of the man's head. When the triangle zoomed closer and Stanford flinched, he said, "Whoa, don't have a heart attack, you're not ninety-two yet."_

 _"Who are you?" Stanford asked, in complete shock with everything from how the triangle held himself up proudly to his extensive knowledge._

 _"Name's Bill." He said politely as he dipped his hat to the human. "And your name's Stanford Pines, the man who changed the world, but I'm getting ahead of ourselves. Let's relax. Care for a game of interdimensional chess?" Out of thin air, a chess set appeared in a glowing blue light and a comfy chair appeared underneath Stanford, making him sit. "Have a cup of tea." A teapot and cup then appeared and poured Stanford a cup, which he took out of politeness._

 _Bill sat in a chair opposite of the human and moved first, placing the pawn in front of the knight two spaces ahead. Stanford couldn't exactly sit his cup of tea down on an end-table or by his feet, but he discovered quickly that he could allow it to float by his head if he chose. He moved the pawn in front of his queen and smiled when Bill took his next turn. The game proved to be very entertaining, both players equally as skilled, and when Stanford sipped his tea, he was pleased to find it just the right temperature and flavor, his ideal favorite cup of tea; it was like it came straight from his mind._

 _It was a close draw, but Stanford won the first game by trapping the king. Immediately after he won, the game reset itself and after congratulating the human on his small victory, he invited him to make the first move, so Stanford did. As entertained and comfortable as he was by this pleasant dream, a surprisingly amount of logic was still left in his mind. This wasn't a normal dream where he was reliving a warped memory or viewing a scene his imagination had cooked up in his sleep; this seemed all too real._

 _"Bill," Stanford spoke while the triangle moved a piece on the gameboard. "As pleased as I am to meet you, you didn't really explain who you were."_

 _Bill laughed at himself, squeezing his eye shut for a moment as he held his body, and then said, "Oh, nothing gets by you, huh, Fordsie? Well, as hard as it may be to believe, I'm a muse."_

 _"A muse?" Stanford repeated as he moved his crook._

 _"That's right." Bill replied, taking his turn on the game. "Every century, I get to choose one brilliant mind to inspire. You see, I'm a special type of muse. I'm the Master of the Mind. I know lots of things, and I know a brilliant mind when I see one." He added, pointing to his one eye._

 _Stanford smiled proudly as he played Bill's game. "And so… am I under the correct assumption that you have chosen my mind?"_

 _"Ding, ding, ding!" Bill sang. "We have a winner!" He didn't move his piece, pausing the game, rather he leaned forward, resting an elbow on a knee. "Look, you're trying to figure out the Gravity Falls Theory of Unified Weirdness, right? And you're getting there, but you just need a little help, someone to steer you in the direction, someone to inspire you, someone like me."_

 _Stanford took another sip from his cup of tea and listened to what his new friend had to say._

* * *

Hephzie didn't really worry about Ford or Stan when they left the house. They had proven many times that they are more than capable of taking care of themselves. No, that wasn't why she was looking for her husband; she just needed to get out of the house. Hephzie found Ford sleeping against a tree not too far from home, cradling a book in his arms as he snoozed peacefully, his soft snoring indicating that he was sleeping well. Hephzie smiled and carefully sat next to him. The tree wasn't big enough for her to lay against it for support, too, so she settled for placing her head on Ford's shoulder and closing her eyes.

Maybe twenty minutes later, Ford slowly opened his eyes, blinking as he got used to the bright setting sun, and he looked down at his wife, who laid on his left shoulder. He sat the book down and gently grabbed her right hand, then closed his eyes once more, not really intending on going back to sleep, but to simply enjoy the company.

"Slept well?" Hephzie asked.

Ford hummed softly in reply, his eyelids just a little too heavy to lift them. "How's Stanley?"

"He'll live." She said in a plain tone, almost sarcastically. "He's sleepin' off the flu right now."

"Good." Ford kissed his wife's head in gratitude for taking care of his brother and rested once more.


	26. Girls

**_For Arianna, who has no idea how strong she really is…_**

* * *

 ** _September 14th, 1963_**

Hephzibah had watched her best friends box for about three years now, going to every single one of their matches and cheering them on. She even helped them with their injuries afterwards and would sometimes invite them to her house for snacks after a match. Sometimes she would go to practice with them so they could play afterwards, and sometimes she stayed home to help out at Pianos For People. Today, she knocked on the door of the Pines' apartment over their pawn shop wearing a white t-shirt and gray sweatpants. She walked with the twins to the gym, but she didn't sit down at the bleachers to watch. Instead, she surprised Stanley and Stanford when she sat with the row of boys who were trying out for the team today.

The coach was a huge man with dog-tags and a whistle hanging from his neck, the tags from when he served in the war as a young man. He wasn't quite baling yet, but his black hair seemed to be getting thin. His cheeks and big nose were blood red and his small eyes held no warmth, but Hephzibah was not afraid.

One by one, each boy took his turn to try out for the team. About halfway down the line, it would've been Hephzibah's turn, but when she attempted to walk up to the ring, she was stopped by the coach, who held her by the shoulder.

"Whoa, missy, the tryouts for the cheerleadin' squad are across the hall."

"No, sir, I'm here to tryout for boxin'." Hephzibah said respectfully.

"Sure, Baby-Cakes, ya tried," The coach sneered and pointed to the door. "Now get outta here before ya get hurt."

"I ain't goin' nowhere." Hephzibah said firmly. "There's no rule that says I can't try, but there are lots of rules that say ya can't call me 'Baby-Cakes'."

The coach tried to ruffle Hephzibah's unruly curly hair, but she swatted his hand away like a fly. "Sure, sweetheart, ya got spunk, now why don't ya go home n' bake a cake."

"How 'bout ya take your cake n'..."

"Coach," Stanley spoke up and put a hand on Hephzibah's shoulder. "I'll vouch for her. She's tough. She can handle it."

The coach glared at one of his best boxers and then down at the girl. "Fine, but if ya get hurt, it ain't my problem."

Hephzibah gave Stanley a smile of thanks before running up to the ring and slipping on her gloves and helmet. She faced off with a boy who was also trying out for the team and they both waited for the bell to begin. Stanley resumed his seat on the bleachers next to Stanford, who had his book by his side, and they both watched their friend carefully, a little worried that she would get hurt.

The boy she was facing was hesitant when the bell rang, so Hephzibah made the first move. She swung her left fist at his head, which he dodged, but his face met with her right-hook. The boy staggered for only a moment and then began to swing slightly-sloppy punches, which Hephzibah blocked with her gloves. She decided to take a risk and she did a swing-kick, and the boy was swept off his feet.

"Wow!" Stanley awed. "She's good! HEY! When'd ya learn how to do all that?!" He called to Hephzibah as she offered a fair hand to the boy to help him up.

"I'd like to think I learned a thang or two from watchin' ya knuckleheads." Hephzibah called back and left the ring for a drink of water.

Hephzibah was still a rookie and clearly needed coaching, but it was apparent that she had trained hard for this. After three more matches, all of which she won, the coach growled and looked over at his team of players that were already on the team.

"CRAMPELTER! Gettin there n' take her down!"

Crampelter grinned and slipped his helmet on. "Finally, a good excuse to punch Brown in the face."

Stanley sprang to his feet, but Stanford put his hands on his shoulders. "Sit down, Knucklehead, sit down. She can handle this."

"I'm not worried about Hephzie; I'm worried about Crampelter." Stanley growled like an angry bulldog.

Hephzibah watched seriously as Crampelter climbed into the ring and took a stance. "This'll be over quickly." He sneered.

Hephzibah nodded, agreeing it would be.

The bell rang, and they both ran to each other. Crampelter landed a good one on her nose and she managed to block some more punches with her gloves. Hephzibah dodged a good number of his hits until she managed to land a strong left-hook on his jaw. It was so strong and hit him just perfectly that a tooth flew out of his mouth and landed with a tiny clink on the concrete floor outside of the ring.

The whole room awed and the twins stood up and cheered, "GET HIM, HEPHZIE!"

Crampelter licked where blood was oozing out from where his tooth once was and punched Hephzibah so hard she lost her footing. He kicked her legs, bringing her to his knees, and soon he had her pinned, free to punch her as he pleased. Normally, a referee would blow the whistle and call it off, but the coach pretended to be too busy checking his clipboard to notice. Stanford had to physically hold Stanley back from running into the ring and taking Crampelter down himself. After a few hits, Hephzibah managed to free a leg, knee Crampelter in the gut, and the boy rolled over and let her go. Hephzibah punched him in the head several times with left and right-hooks and when he stood up to attack her back, she punched him in the balls.

The room went ballistic. Boys were wincing and folding their legs over, most were cheering like mad. In a normal match, Hephzibah would've gotten in trouble, but this was tryouts; anything goes. Hephzibah slipped off her helmet and shook her frizzy black hair free of it's sweaty dome. She smiled wickedly at the bully who was holding his crotch in pain and left the ring, her chest swelling with pride.

The fourth-grade twins ran down to her and Stanford hugged her around the shoulders. "Hephzie, that was amazing! You definitely made the team!"

"Ya really think so?" Hephzibah asked as she took off her gloves when Stanford let her go.

"I know so!" Stanford said confidently.

Stanley punched her shoulder and said, "You were awesome out there! You won every match! You'll take this team to the championships!"

"We _all_ will!" Hephzibah said excitedly. "Y'all are good, too!"

Stanford shook his head. "Nah, I'm not as good as you two, but you'll be great!"

"This'll be so much fun!" Stanley yelled. "You'll get to work out with us and go to New York in April and kick everyone's butt!"

Hephzibah blushed and the coach called out to the room.

"Alright, bring it in!"

Old players sat in the bleachers while the ones trying out sat on a bench by the ring. The coach then began to read off the list of people who made the team. Hephzibah grinned and waited for her name to be called. Her smile dropped when the coach was done calling names and said that they'll take a five minute water-break before resuming practice. He hadn't called out her name.

"Sir!" Hephzibah hollered and ran up to the couch when he walked away and the other boys cheered and left for water. "Sir, how did I not make the team?" She asked as she walked alongside the coach. "I beat everybody, even Crampelter!"

"Listen, Little Lady," The coach said as he stopped walking and pointed at Hephzibah. "No girl is every gonna box on my team, n' if ya got a problem with it, take it up with the complaint-department." And he jammed a thumb back at the trashcan by the door.

"Now, hold up, ya can't…"

But the coach was already out the door.

Stanley and Stanford had heard every word. Stanley put a hand on Hephzibah's shoulder as she stared at the door and said, "Tough break, Hephzie. Don't worry about it. It's his loss for not having such a…"

Hephzibah shrugged his hand away and marched with her head low for her bag. She swung it on her shoulder and muttered, "I'll see ya guys later."

"Hephzie…"

But she was already out the door, too.

* * *

 ** _March 8th, 1967_**

Their World History teacher, Mr. Wisner, was a skinny bean-pone of a man with sweaty palms, a long, kind face, tiny reading glasses, and a quivering voice. He was very patient and a good teacher, but sometimes his nerves made him say stupid things. Mr. Wisner's heart was in the right place, but his brain wasn't.

One day, he had two skinny folding tables in the front of the class that he had borrowed from the school to showcase artifacts he had collected over the years. Mr. Wisner had done his fair share of exploring and he also had a wife that worked at a museum in New York, so he had quite the display of ancient daggers, pots, and other relics from the past. Once the class was done observing them, he had them focus on a worksheet while he gently packed the artifacts away. When he had finished, he announced to the class, "I need two strong boys to take these tables to the cafeteria, please."

Stanley was about to stand up and volunteer, any excuse not to work, but Hephzibah was quicker. "I'll give ya a hand, sir." She said politely as she stood up and walked to the front.

"Well, thank you, Ms. Cece," Mr. Wisner said, just as kindly. "But I'm afraid I need a boy."

The whole room was silent. Someone had just told Hephzibah Cece that she couldn't do something because she wasn't a boy. Some students covered their mouths to hide their snickers or their hung jaws. Stanley and Stanford only wished that she wouldn't get herself into too much trouble.

Hephzibah raised an eyebrow at him. "Why?" She asked calmly.

Seeing his mistake, the teacher swallowed and shook his hands. "Well, because this is a difficult job and I'm afraid a delicate girl like yourself might get hurt."

Hephzibah wanted to yell, but she couldn't. She couldn't bring herself to do it, so instead she popped her fingers, folded each of the table's legs in, and carried each of the huge tables on a shoulder, hardly quivering under the weight. It was actually very impressive, seeing how the girl was short for her age and the tables weight about as much as her. With as much grace as she could muster, she walked to the door and the student sitting closest to it opened it for her.

"Well, she's definitely not delicate." Stanford muttered behind his textbook.

Hephzibah was gone for only five minutes before she came back in, calmly sat down and resumed her work.

Stanley gave her a high-five under their desks.

All day her shoulders ached painfully, but it was worth it and she didn't tell anybody.

* * *

 ** _June 5th, 1969_**

The balding old man happily paid Mr. Ingrid the fee for fixing his old blue truck. Mr. Ingrid was the best mechanic on this side of the state and always did an outstanding job, cars usually coming out better than before they were in need of repairs.

"Thank ya kindly, Mr. Henderson." Mr. Ingrid said politely and put the cash in his register. "Your truck's almost done."

He led the way into the garage where someone wearing old jeans was finishing the truck, the top half of their body under the truck. Mr. Henderson frowned at seeing, not a boy, but a girl with brown shoulder-length curls and a peach-colored top roll out from under the truck and wipe a sweaty forehead, leaving a grease mark behind.

"All finish, sir," The girl said politely and stood up. She patted the top of the blue truck and said, "She should be as smooth as butter now."

"Good work, Madeline." Mr. Ingrid said and handed Mr. Henderson his keys.

"Hold on a minute," Mr. Henderson growled as he snatched his keys back. "Choo expect me to trust a girl with a man's job? Everybody knows machines n' women don't mix."

The teenager put her hands on her hips. "Excuse me?"

"Mr. Henderson," Mr. Ingrid said sternly. "I can assure ya that my niece is as good as me."

"I'll be the judge of that." Mr Henderson snapped and hopped in his truck.

Madeline stood by her uncle as the old man put the key in the ignition and the turck roared like a lion. She smiled proudly at herself and her uncle squeezed her shoulder.

"That's m'gurl."

"I suppose it sounds alright for a female." Mr. Henderson sneered. "But if it breaks within a week, I better get a free repair!"

"You'll pay what we require ya for good work, n' that's final." Mr. Ingrid growled, knowing just how clumsy the old man was with his truck and had a tendency to come in twice a month for repairs. "Now get outta here before I pop a tire." And Madeline's uncle pulled out a Phillips head screwdriver from his belt.

Swearing under his breath, Mr. Henderson backed the truck quickly out of the garage and sped down the street so bad his tires squealed like mice on the road.

"Don't ya pay that fool any mind, Madeline." Mr. Ingrid said as they watched the truck go. "Ya can do anythang a man can do, n' sometimes better, ya hear?"

"I hear." Maddie replied and her smile was full of determination.

* * *

 ** _March 12th, 1977_**

Fiddleford was sitting in the living room with all of his siblings. Madeline was sitting in a big armchair with him. Todd Jr. and Montgomery had Jolene sandwiched between them on one end of the couch and skinny Bartholomew sat at the opposite end of the couch. Cornelius had a rocking chair to himself and Maxwell sat on the floor by the couch, letting his skinny legs stretch out in front of him.

After a story from Todd Jr. about how his son, Jefferson, and his daughter, Caroline, got into trouble on the hog farm last month, a story that left most of the room in fits of laughter, Madeline stood up and said, "Well, I fancy a cup o' coffee." She looked down at her husband and asked, "Would ya like a cup?"

"I'd love one, Maddie, thank ya." Fiddleford said politely.

Madeline looked up and asked the room, "Anyone else fancy a cup?"

"O' coffee?" Maxwell asked.

"Yeah, coffee."

"Ya mean, you're gonna get it?" He clarified.

Madeline chuckled good-naturedly. "Yes. You're surprised?"

Maxwell lifted a hand and smiled, "I'm sorry, Maddie, I just didn't think ya did that kind o' thang."

Madeline gave him a skeptical look, but still kept her smile, somewhat amused by his confusion. "What kind o' thang?"

"Ya know, serve." Maxwell said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Aw, Hell nah…"

"Jolene." Todd Jr. said warningly about her swearing.

"Serve whom?" Madeline asked calmly.

"Serve Fiddleford." Maxwell answered, oblivious to the fact that the temperature in the room had dropped ten degrees in Fahrenheit.

"Oh, serve Fiddleford!" Madeline gasped mockingly. "As in 'serve your man'?"

"Well yeah."

"Lemme tell ya somethang, Maxwell Peabody McGucket." Madeline snapped in such a vicious tone that the sweet cinnamon roll vibe of her's was gone. Now she resembled an irritated fox, like a hunter had stepped on her tail and made her mad.

Fiddleford held his forehead. He should have known Maxwell would say something stupid like this. Todd Jr. looked ready to play referee if needed, while Jolene secretly wished she had popcorn to munch on while she watched.

"I'm not _servin'_ Fiddleford, or anyone else for that matter, okay?" Madeline sneered.

"Okay." Maxwell peeped like a mouse.

"That's the kinda thang that goes on in a diner." Madeline said. "Now, I'm gonna get him a cup o' coffee just like he got me a cup o' coffee with mornin', n' THAT, young man, is what marriage is! It's give n' take fifty-fifty! N' if ya don't get it together, n' drop these hideous attitudes, ya ain't never gonna have anybody bringin' ya anythanganywhereanyplaceanytime EV-AH!"

The room was silent. Maxwell could do nothing but swallow, making his Adam's Apple bobble. Jolene grinned from ear-to-ear, showcasing her perfect teeth, and to vex out some energy she high-fived Montgomery, whom she was sandwich on the couch next to with Todd Jr. on her other side.

Madeline, who had stood with her hands on her hips and her eyes throwing dagger down at Maxwell, then held her hands in front of her lap and asked politely, "Now, whatcha like in your coffee?"

Maxwell stood up on wobbly knees. "Maybe I can get ya some coffee."

Maddie laughed a little too sweetly for comfort and placed a hand on his shoulder. "It's alright, Max, I don't mind gettin' it, but thanks for offerin'. Anyone else want some coffee?"

All six of the McGucket children raised their hands and Madeline left the living room for the kitchen. Fiddleford was still holding his head, grateful that things didn't get worse, and Maxwell sat back down, holding his knees now.

"Max." Fiddleford said as bland as flour.

"Yeah, Fidds." Maxwell replied shakily.

Fiddleford now held his head by his jaw, looking ahead at nothing in particular. "When she brings the coffee back, if I were ya I wouldn't drink it."


	27. Birthday

**_June 15th, 1982_**

Ford woke up slowly since it was his day off. When he turned over so his back was to the door rather than his wife, he intended to wrap her in a one-armed hold and snuggle close to her, but his arm caught nothing but mattress. Ford opened his eyes and found that he was in fact alone. He sat up, slipped on his glasses, and looked to see if the bathroom was occupied, but it was empty. Getting an idea of where Hephzie was, he put on his slippers and ran out of the room, down the hall, and into the kitchen to find Hephzie doing exactly what he was afraid she was doing.

"Hephzibah!" Ford yelled in a scolding tone.

Hephzie, however, smiled brightly and yelled back, "Happy Birthday, Fordsie!"

Ford blinked when he noticed that Stan was in the room and sipping coffee as he read the newspaper at the table. His heart slowed down. Good. Someone was there to make sure whatever Hephzie was up to wouldn't leave the kitchen up in flames. "Thank you, my dear," Ford breathed as he kissed her in greeting and looked over at the hot stove and the sink full of dishes. "But what on Earth are you up to?"

"I'm makin' ya guys breakfast." Hephzie said plainly and rolled her eyes. "Don't worry, Stan caught me n' put it in the oven."

"I don't know about you, but I think a heart-attack is a lousy birthday present." Stan grunted while Hephzie got on the tips of her toes to get down Ford's favorite mug: a black one with a green-and-blue spaceship on it.

"Don't worry, this year your present will be amazin'! It's not everyday the two most important people in your entire world turn twenty-eight!" Hephzie said excitedly as she poured her husband some coffee.

Ford smiled like an idiot over hearing the /itwo most important people in your entire world/i bit and he sat down next to his twin. "This isn't going to be like last year when you took us to a boxing match and Stanley ended up in the hospital, is it?"

"Or the year before that when you took us to the opera and I nearly died of boredom?"

"Or the year before that when you landed us in county-jail by accidentally using counterfeit to pay for movie tickets?"

"Or the year before that when you got us stranded in the middle of the forest for five days?"

"Okay, okay!" Hephzie snapped and put the cup of coffee down on the table with a sharp thud that nearly slouched coffee everywhere. "Maybe I've had some bad luck over the years, but I promise that today y'all are gonna have the best birthday you've ever had! Now who wants to put on some blindfolds n' get in the car?!"

"Kinky." Stan muttered into his mug.

He was saved by Lady Luck and spared the pain of getting smacked over the top of the head; the timer by the stove went off and Hephzie slipped on some oven mitts before opening the door and pulling out a pan of burned cinnamon rolls, so burned that they looked like they had been painted black. "HOW IS THAT EVEN POSSIBLE?!" Hephzie yelled in frustration while Ford covered his mouth to try to keep from laughing and Stan stared in amazement.

"I don't know, I was here the whole time!" Stan yelled and stood up. "Oh well, nothing like a good ole bowl of Unlucky Leprechaun."

After the twins ate and got dressed, Hephzie wasn't kidding when she said she was going to have them blindfolded. She somehow managed to blind them both and get them to sit in the back of the Stanmobile, and she drove them off into the unknown.

"Okay, seriously, Ford, your wife's freaking me out." Stan growled.

"Hephzibah, not to say we don't appreciate the fact that you want to do something special to commemorate the day we came into the world, but don't you think this is a little… excessive?" Ford asked, testing his vision by shaking his left hand in front of his face; he couldn't see any of his six fingers.

"What makes ya say… LOOK OUT!" Hephzie yelled and jerked the wheel, making the car whip slightly and the brothers yell, but she only laughed. "Sorry, sorry, didn't wanna hit that leaf!" She teased.

"This is gonna be my death-day too, huh?" Stan sneered as he held his pounding chest.

"Uh, oh. Another leaf."

"HEPHZIE!" Both men yelled as they were jerked violently when Hephzie swerved the car.

Finally, they got where they were going and Hephzie helped the birthday-boys out of the car and a few steps ahead. She helped them stand side-by-side and she had her hands behind her back, a huge grin coating her entire face. "Okay, okay, are ya ready? I'm ready! This is so excitin'!"

Ford chuckled over Hephzie's glee. "Can we take a look?"

"Yes, ya can take off the blindfolds."

Stan and Ford freed their eyes from their prisons and blinked to adjust their eyes to the sunlight. They both stared as they were at the Gravity Falls Lake and floating in front of them and behind Hephzie was a brand new sailboat with a big red ribbon stuck on the front instead of a statue of a mermaid.

"SURPRISE!" Hephzie cheered at seeing their awed expressions. "It's fishin' season!"

The twins both stared with their jaws hanging at the boat in front of them. It wasn't quite like the one they had built back at Glass Shard Beach, but it still had a sail and it floated and that's all that mattered. There was a cabin that took up a good chunk of the boat, but it still had a nice deck, which held three white beach chairs and a small white table.

"Fishing?" Ford repeated.

"Hold up, sis," Stan said and held out a hand to pause whatever she was up to. He then pointed to the sailboat and hesitantly asked, "Is… is that ours?"

"Well, can ya think of any other trouble-causin' twins that want it?" Hephzie teased and held out a bucket of black paint and two brushes from behind her back. "It just needs to be signed."

Stan and Ford exchanged looks before running for the art supplies and speeding down the dock and to the ship to sign it like they did with their first one as children. Hephzie watched them happily and held her trembling hands tightly, pleased that they seemed to enjoy their birthday present. She was worried that old broken promises and fights may have ruined their liking for fishing and boats, but thankfully it seemed like all the water was truly under the bridge.

The twins stepped back and admired their handiwork. Together, they dubbed the nice sailboat the _Stan O' War II_.

Hephzie allowed a little girlish squeal to escape her lips and she said, "Okay, okay, there are more surprises in the cabin, so climb up n' let's catch some fish, cuz that's what's for dinner tonight!"

Ford and Stan obeyed and climbed up on the boat. Like children on Christmas morning, they ran into the cabin of the ship to explore, with Hephzie watching them from a distance. The cabin was well sized, a single room holding a small kitchen area and dining table, the kitchen only being a fridge, a stove and oven, and a sink, all nailed to the floor. At the back of the room was a small set of stairs and led to the bottom of the boat, but Stan and Ford's attention was caught by what was on the table: two sets of fishing equipment, two life-vests, and two fishing hats with their names hand-stitched to the front.

"Wow, Hephzie!" Stan gasped as he slapped the fishing hat on that red "Stanley" in multi-colored letters. "Ya really went all out this year!"

"How long have you been working on this?" Ford asked curiously.

"Don't worry 'bout that." Hephzie said as she leaned against the door-frame and waved the question away. "I just wanted to do somethang special for ya guys."

"Well… thank you, darling." Ford said and kissed her to show his gratitude. "Thank you very much."

Hephzie's stomach did a back-flip with joy. She had been secretly planning this for five months, cramming in extra hours at the hospital and squirreling away money without her husband noticing, a difficult task since he typically did the budgeting, balance the checkbook, and paid the bills. And yet, by some miracle, Hephzie managed to pull this surprise off.

"Seriously, sis," Stan said as he slipped on his vest over his white t-shirt. "This is the best present you've ever given us!"

"Now, are ya sure that's everythang?" Hephzie teased.

Stan's eyes got wide. "I swear, if there's a dog…"

Hephzie laughed at seeing the worried look on Ford's face and the excited look on Stan's face. "There's no dog, Stan, sorry, but ya should still check downstairs." She hinted, pointing to the floor.

Elbowing each other, the twins raced down the stairs and awed at the bedroom before them. Hanging on the left and right walls of the room, cream-white hammocks hung like ones of a pirate ship's, with one being on top of the other like a makeshift bunk bed. Tucked in the two bottom hammocks and hidden under cozy blankets, something shaped like a box was waiting for them. Ford checked the left-hammock and it just so happened to contain a present wrapped in blue paper with his name on it. He sat on the hammock and gently began to unwrap it, while Stan zipped to his present and ripped the red paper off. Hephzie sat at the bottom of the stairs and waited anxiously to see their reactions to their gifts.

Ford pulled out a beautiful golden compass with a chain that looked much like a pocket-watch, but when you popped it open it told you the direction, not the time. Engraved inside, on the back of the little flap of the compass, it read "To Stanford, my beloved husband." Stan stared at a folded telescope made out of a mixture of wood and gold. He gently took it out of the box and expanded it to find that at the end of the optical tube, the words "For Stanley, my best friend" were carved in small, cursive words.

The two men were silent as they stared at their gifts. A boat, a real-life sailboat, and fishing equipment, and such personal gifts?! It was almost too much.

"Now I expect ya two knuckleheads to use 'em n' use 'em good." Hephzie teased, her chin resting on her knuckles, her elbow on her knee.

Ford snapped his head back up and looked at her. "Hephzibah…" He couldn't wait another second. He ran to her, got on his knees, and hugged her tightly. He didn't know how she managed to do all of this without either of them suspecting a thing or how in all that is weird she afforded this, but he didn't care. "Thank you. Thank you!"

Hephzie grinned and squeezed him back. She looked at Stan just in time to see him wipe at his eye. "Stanley, are ya cryin'?" She teased.

"There's dust in this boat or something!" Stan excused and jumped up. "C'mere, sis!" He joined in on the hug, allowing himself to get sappy for a minute.

Back when they were kids, Hephzie was never really involved when it came to the _Stan O' War_. The twins had even kept it a secret from her for a long time, until they decided they could trust her and one day in the summer between fifth and sixth grade, they introduced her to their pet-project. She always respected that it was their project and that it was their dream, but she supported them and kept their secret. That day, they had played pretend-pirates and swung on the swings and ever since she rarely saw the ship, except when she was looking for Stan or Ford and knew where to go. With all that being said, this made the second _Stan O' War_ even better, because Hephzie was a part of it.

Stan let go of Hephzie and Ford and said, "Alright, enough with the mushy stuff or whatever. Let's untie this baby and get out on the lake!"

Hephzie and Ford followed him back upstairs and out of the cabin and Hephzie sat in a chair and let the two men do everything, seeing how it was their boat and their birthday. The wind was good and the sun was right above their heads. Ford untied the boat, setting it free from the dock, and Stan let the sail loose. Together, they got the boat out onto the middle of the lake and let it float peacefully.

Ford had his fists on his hips and took in a deep breath, his blue sweater and life-vest expanding. "This truly was a brilliant idea, Hephzibah! I don't know how you'll ever top this!"

"Oh, well I guess I'll just have to try harder next time."

"Please don't!"

"Now I feel like I've been issued a challenge."

"Hephzibah!"

"It's too late now, Fordsie!"

Stan rolled his eyes and barked, "While you two love-birds squawk at each other, I'm gonna catch us something to eat. I'm starved!"

"If you're ready for lunch it's in the fridge." Hephzie said, jamming a thumb to the door of the little cabin.

"You've thought of everything!" Stan yelled and went to go get lunch.

Ford sat next to his wife and found the white chair to be comfortable. "What did you pack for lunch, my dear?"

"One ham-n'-pineapple pizza, one meat-lovers pizza, some Pitt sodas, carrots n' celery with ranch, n' I believe there's some toffee peanuts n' jelly beans in the shelves."

Ford stared wide-eyed at the woman in dreadlocks. "You truly are full of wonders, Hephzibah Pines."

Hephzie could only blush and look away. Ford gently took her right hand, sitting on her right side, and squeezed it. Hephzie squeezed his hand back and closed her eyes for a moment, enjoying the sun baked her dark skin.

Stan brought out the packed lunch to the dock and the trio enjoyed eating and talking on the _Stan O' War II_. Ford's favorite pizza was the ham-and-pineapple and Stan's was the meat-lovers; Hephzie simply took a slice of each and was happy to munch on the cold baby carrots and dip them in ranch. A little while later it was time to try to fish.

"Please tell me there's a backup-plan if we don't catch any fish." Ford joked as he threw his line over the dock.

Hephzie chuckled as she tied a worm onto her hook. "Ya two still like Greasy's, right?"

Stan sighed to himself as he ate his fourth slice of pizza; the idea of more food was quite sickening at the moment. He washed down his last slice with some soda and he threw his line over the dock as well, then he sat in a chair and waited. Soon, all three of them were sitting in chairs and waiting to get a tug on their lines. Ford and Stan were chatting aimlessly for almost half an hour until they were halted by a soft snore. They both turned to find that Hephzie had fallen asleep, the hot summer sun making her drowsy and forcing her into an afternoon nap. Ford chuckled and resumed the conversation with his brother in a quieter tone.

Hephzie's line didn't get anything, but soon Stan caught two fish, and Ford had just caught one when Hephzie's fishing pole started to tug; this wasn't a soft pull by a trout or salmon. This was a heavy pull that threatened to steal the fishing pole.

"Hephzie… Hephzibah, wake up!" Ford called as he tucked his fishing pole into his chair and grabbed Hephzie's.

Hephzie jerked awake and rubbed her sore eyes. "Whatzza matter?" She asked with slurred speech.

"You caught something!" Stan explained as he stood up and tucked his own fishing pole in the lines of his chair. "Something big!"

Hephzie sat up, her mind still slow. "I did?"

"WHOA!" Ford yelled as he tried to real the line in, but it only tugged stronger and threatened to send him overboard. "Give me a hand! It's heavy!"

Hephzie grabbed the handle of the fishing pole so Ford could focus on reeling. He put a booted foot up on the rail to try to steady himself and he tugged with all his might. His eyes grew large when he realized that, slowly, he and the whole ship was being slowly dragged by whatever was on Hephzie's line.

"Uh… Stanley? Did you lower the anchor?" Ford asked.

Stan paled slightly. "N-No."

Ford and Hephzie pulled as hard as they could, but that only seemed to challenge whatever had a bite on Hephzie's worm, and it started to swim away with such strength that it pulled the boat like a horse to a carriage.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!"

Stan grabbed a hold of Hephzie and Ford put both feet up on the rail as they hung on for dear life, being dragged around on the Gravity Falls Lake. The creature that was caught on the line sent the boat in the zig-zag pattern, trying to shake the humans off, but they were too stubborn for their own good.

"AT THIS RATE WE'LL BE EATIN' FISH FOR A MONTH!" Hephzie yelled.

"I DON'T THINK IT'S A FISH!" Ford hollered.

"BEAVERS!" Stan screamed as they were heading for a damn full of the fuzzy little animals. The humans yelled as the sailboat ran right into them and beavers went flying everywhere, one falling on Stan's head and making him let go of Hephzie so he could run around yelling, "MY EYES! MY EYES!"

"HOLD ON, STANLEY!" Ford yelled and left Hephzie alone with the fishing pole to help his brother. He punched the beaver several times until it fell off and into the water, but he ended up punching Stan in the eye.

"Thanks." He moaned.

"GUYS! HELP!" Hephzie yelled as the fishing pole was tugged at a dangerous degree; it looked like it might snap.

The twin both ran to her, but just before they could help, she and the fishing pole were pulled into the lake and the boat slowed to a stop. "HEPHZIBAH!" They both screamed and looked down at the water for any sign of her.

"Oh my God, what do we do?!" Stan yelled as he held his hat-covered head in panic.

Ford stood on the rail and was ready to jump in. "I'll be right back…"

Hephzie then popped into view and wiped water from her face.

"HEPHZIBAH!" The twins yelled in relief.

"PULL ME UP, PULL ME UP, PULL ME UP!" Hephzie yelled as she reached for them.

Ford and Stan both stretched and grabbed an arm, then gently pulled her up on deck. Ford grabbed her by the arms and looked over her. "Hephzibah, are you hurt? Are you okay?"

"M'fine, but we gotta get outta here NOW!" Hephzie yelled and swatted away Ford's hands.

"What, why?" Stan asked.

Hephzie's eyes widened and she pointed ahead. "THAT'S WHY!"

Stan and Ford turned around and were horrified to find a giant Loch Ness monster-like creature slowly creep up out of the water. It was green and scaly, able to blend in with seaweed and moss. It had huge, razor-sharp teeth that created an overbite, small eyes, a huge snout like a crocodile, and it was huge, three times bigger than the _Stan O' War II_.

Hephzie, Stan and Ford yelled in horror and got to work on getting far away from the monster. The twins quickly worked together to speed away from the monster, but it was chasing them. They sped to a more crowded area of the lake and the monster sunk underneath, but was still chasing them. They nearly crashed into Manley Dave and Boyish Dan as they fished with their bare hands and several other people enjoying the hot summer's day.

"All hands on deck, son!"

"Dad?! Do the fishes seek revenge?!"

"Nope, but that thing sure does! Never piss off nature, Dan!"

"WHAT THE HELL IS THAT THANG?!" Hephzie screamed as it rose out of the water once they were alone again with it.

"It's the Gravity Falls Gobblewonker!" Ford yelled. "I've heard legends about it, but we hadn't had time to investigate! I wish I had my journal with me!"

"I wish we didn't have to worry about getting eaten alive!" Stan yelled irritably.

The sailboat started to slow down thanks to the lack of wind and they all started to panic; Stan even tried to blow into the sail, losing his sanity due to fear, and Hephzie and Ford held each other tightly in case this was it. They all squeezed their eyes shut, but nothing happened. Slowly, Ford opened his eyes and looked around. It was quiet in the middle of the lake. He gently let go of Hephzie and peered down into the water for any sign of the Gobblewonker.

"Did we lose him?" Hephzie asked as she joined her husband and looked for the monster.

"I-I think so."

Stan also looked around for the monster, but all the quiet and there was no shadows in the water that indicated a giant creature. After a few minutes, Stan collapsed into a chair and held his beating heart.

Hephzie suddenly kicked the short wall of the boat with a loud bang, making the two men jump. She sat against the little wall and bent her knees up by her chest. "I'm sorry." Hephzie sighed and she held her head, her fingers entangled in her dreadlocks. "I just wanted to give ya guys one perfect birthday, but I ended up givin' y'all nothin' but a heart-attack. Guess I am pretty lousy when it comes to birthdays."

The twins exchanged bizarre looks at hearing their good friend say something like that. "What on Earth are you talking about?" Ford asked his wife with a smile. "This is the best birthday I've ever had!" He cheered joyfully, making Hephzie look up at him. "We saw the legendary Gobblewonker!"

"Hell, you bought us a boat!" Stan yelled and gestured to the _Stan O' War II_. "AND a gold compass and telescope!"

"But you gave us a lot more than just a boat and sentimental equipment, Hephzibah." Ford said as he bent his knees to be eye-level with his wife. "You gave us an adventure, and much more to come in the future! What more could we want?!"

Hephzie bit her lips bashfully. "Alright, enough with the sappy stuff." She muttered and took Ford's offered hand to help her back up on her feet.

"Hold on," Stan interrupted and pulled out a camera from his pocket. "We need to get this moment on camera."

"Wait a minute…" Ford said, flabbergasted for a moment or two, then yelled, "YOU HAD A CAMERA THIS WHOLE TIME AND DIDN'T TAKE A PICTURE OF THE GOBBLEWONKER?!"

"SORRY THAT I WAS TOO BUSY _NOT_ DYING!"

Hephzie laughed until her eyes watered and her lung ached. Stan stole the opportunity and turned the camera to himself as he stood on one side of Hephzie and Ford stood on her other side. Arm-in-arm, they smiled at the camera and captured the perfect moment of the Pines twins' birthday.


	28. Three

**_June 16th, 1982_**

Ford stood at the edge of the cliff, letting his messy brown hair get even messier in the wind as he sketched the Floating Cliff. Behind him, Stan and Hephzie were setting up a picnic after a long day of exploring the valley. Tomorrow, it was decided, they would try to find some sort of evidence that proved a spacecraft had crashed into Gravity Falls millions of years ago. But today, they had just made the thrilling connection and were going to celebrate with lunch, including ham sandwiches, chips, apples, a carrot cake, and spiked lemonade.

Stan eventually joined Ford and sat at the edge of the cliff by Ford's right side, letting his legs dangle off the edge of the mountainside. Hephzie also joined them, admiring the view, and she sat cross-legged on Stan's left, a little in front of Ford. He smiled down at the two as they sat and looked out at the valley, and he too found himself sitting on the warm grass, his knees up by his chest so he could write in his second journal.

When he finished, he noticed just how many of his journal's pages were full. Ford flicked through the few remaining pages and wagered he only had enough room for whatever they may discover tomorrow before writing a quick conclusion. He went ahead and flipped to the back page and wrote:

 **CONTINUED IN JOURNAL #3**

* * *

 ** _June 18th_**

 _It's hard to believe it's been nearly six years since I began researching the strange and wondrous secrets of Gravity Fall, Oregon._

 _So much has changed in the last six years. I have seen and done much, and in all my travels, never have I observed so many curious things! Gravity Falls truly is indeed a geographical oddity._

 _But the strangest thing about this town is the question: **WHY?!** Why is it that this one remote location houses more paranormal, alter-average, and super-usual phenomena than any other location on Earth? There must be a hidden law of nature, a "Grand Unified Theory of Weirdness," which explains how everything in Gravity Falls in connected. My benefactors trust that I will use their grant money to discover something incredible, and I believe this theory could be it._

 _MY CONTINUING MISSION:  
Investigate the Oddities of Gravity Falls  
Discover the **GRAND UNIFIED THEORY OF WEIRDNESS**  
Publish theory and join the ranks of Newton, Tesla, & Einstein in the pantheon of science!_

* * *

Stanford began to sketch a mountainside at the bottom of the page. As he did, he glanced up at the living room in front of him and smiled. Hephzibah was asleep on the couch, her knees by her side and her arms around an arm if the couch. She had laid her head down on her folded arms and now slept peacefully next to Stanley, who laid a blanket over her and let her sleep while he watched TV, comfortable in his blue-striped boxers. The young scientist turned the page of his new journal and began to fill it's pages with the discoveries he couldn't fit into Journal 1 and 2, most of which he investigated with the help of his wife and twin brother.

As he recorded facts about the Floating Eyeballs, he couldn't help but smile as a memory came to him from last May.

 _He was sitting and watching Cash Wheel with Stanley, playing along even if he didn't win any cash. They had just hit a commercial break when they heard a blood-curdling scream. The twins ran as fast as their legs could carry them and met with Hephzibah as she threw the bathroom door open and gasped for breath. Behind her, some Floating Eyeballs were flying out of the little window. Hephzibah was furious and she looked ready to kill; she was wrapped up in a towel and soaking wet, creating a little puddle on the floor._

 _"I'VE **HAD** IT WITH THESE MOTHERFUCKIN' EYEBALLS IN THIS MOTHERFUCKIN' HOUSE!" She yelled._

 _Stanley blushed a deep crimson red while Stanford pinched the bridge of his nose. "I understand; I'm getting tired of wearing boxers in the shower."_

 _"Well, we better figure somethang out quick or I swear the next time I see one of those Peeping-Tom Eyeballs while I'm tryin' to bathe I'm usin' hairspray n' a lighter on 'em."_

 _"Please don't."_

 _Stanley looked away and held a hand up to the side of his face. "Hephzie, will you please… just, don't worry about it. Go back and finish your shower."_

 _Hephzibah blinked at her best friend. "What? So ya can waltz around the house in your underwear but I can't stand in the hall in a towel?"_

 _Stanley glanced down at the fact that he was indeed only wearing blue-striped boxers; he wasn't even wearing a t-shirt or undershirt. Hephzibah had never once complained about Stanley's habit to wear nothing but boxers, because this was as much as his house as it was hers and he should wear whatever he wants, but the same rule applies for Hephzibah and if Stanley had a problem with it he was just going to have to suck it up._

 _Stanley swallowed and muttered, "Sorry."_

 _Stanford covered his mouth to try to keep from laughing and he walked back towards the living room. "I'll see what I can do about keeping the Floating Eyeballs out of the house."_

Stanford made a note on the side of the page to investigate further on the matter. On the next page, he wrote down all he knew about Vampire Bats, which as of right now wasn't a whole lot, but he hoped to learn more in the near future.

On the next two pages, Stanford started to record what he knew on gnomes. He had encountered them several times in the past, having seen them in the magical part of the forest, but had never took the time to fully study them. Perhaps he and Stanley can do that tomorrow while Hephzibah was at work. Stanford remembered when he first saw a gnome. He had just woken up, made some coffee, and had taken a mug to the parlor to get some work done when he saw one arguing politics with the stuff bear-head over the fireplace. He watched it until it caught sight of the human and scampered away.

Leaving space of additional notes, Stanford turned a page and remembered when he and Stanley looked into Case #28: Cursed Doors. Some doors had caused tourists and unsuspecting locals missing. There was also some sort of connection to any door addressed 13 and the lunar cycle, possibly providing a "Gateway Moon". The case was simply too dangerous to study more in depth; Stanford couldn't imagine disappearing behind one, or losing Stanley or Hephzibah to one, so for now they've put the case on hold.

Stanford turned the page and tried to think of what else he needed to add before bed. As he racked his brain, trying to figure out if he had left something out, it dawned on him that in the last two journals, he had yet to address who the author was and who was discovering the anomalies of Gravity Falls.

* * *

 _As I've been cataloging these oddities, it has occurred to me that I have yet to turn the microscope on the oddity with which I am most intimately familiar: myself._

 _If I succeed in publishing my theory, I am bound to become something of a public figure, so for the sake of historical record, I should perhaps touch on the subject: Who am I?_

 _To put it simply, I am strange. I was born strange, I am attracted to the strange, and the strange has always been attracted to me._

 _Where I grew up we were encouraged to follow rules and fit the mold. I recall finding a shrunken head in the family pawnshop & bringing it to show-and-tell. Every other student brought a football, a football trophy, or a book about football. All of those objects were thrown at me as I gave my report. If my brother hadn't shielded me and punched one of the other kids in the nose, I might have spent the rest of the year in the hospital._

 _When I was growing up, nothing I ever did was right. My grades were too high and my social skills were too low. Worst of all, I was born with a rare birth defect: six fingers on each hand. Although my family tried to convince me that this made me special (and it did help with shadow puppets), I was mocked by classmates and shunned by girls (except for one). I would hide in the library, pouring over books about the supernatural and searching for other freaks in the world like me._

 _I still recall reading about the Bermuda Triangle as a child. The thought of a place where you could just disappear into the unknown fascinated me._

 _Perhaps it was luck, perhaps it was destiny, but I have found my own Bermuda Triangle: Gravity Falls, the place where I fit in. It is here that I will find my grand theory and maybe find myself in the process, but not without the help of…_

* * *

Stanford spent some time sketching in a self-portrait of himself and some other drawings to make the entry come alive, like a quick map of the Bermuda Triangle and a picture of a shrunken head, and his polydactyly. As he drew, his mind wandered. He thought about how bad things got. He thought about how he felt like he was sinking back in his sophomore year of high-school, how cold and depressed he had been for over a year, until he managed to pull himself out of the sinking hole thanks to the help of his loved ones. He thought about how, thanks to his experience with it, he was able to help Stanley through it their junior year. He thought about how he felt like he was at home, but not just because he was in Gravity Falls, but because he was with his family.

He turned a page and began to sketch his brother, sitting on the front step of their porch, a can of soda in hand, and wearing sneakers, jeans, and a white t-shirt, his hair growing out and his knuckles and body still as toned as they were in high-school, but now with more experience. For the sake of privacy, he drew Stanley so his back was to the audience and his face was hidden.

* * *

 _My twin brother._

 _We went our separate ways after a̶n̶ ̶i̶n̶c̶i̶d̶e̶n̶t̶ completing high-school. We were reunited at my wedding and it was almost like we were never apart._

 _My brother is one of the most stubborn people I've ever met, but my wife says that's only further proof that we are twins (aside from the fact that we have the same face). He has proven to be very helpful with discovering the anomalies of Gravity Falls, having punched a unicorn in the nose, captured numerous Eyebats, and made friends with a group of sirens until they started a civil war as to who would marry him._

 _He doesn't say much about what he did while I was in college, but I suspect he had been through much, having traveled through the East side of the country and has even been to prison in Columbia. His experiences has given him more street-smarts than when he were kids and he's proven to be an excellent lie-detector and bodyguard._

* * *

On the opposite page, Stanford sketched a drawing of Hephzibah, sitting on a rocking chair and watching the sunset. He drew a nice view of the woods, and also had to admit that drawing her dreadlocks was both fun and irritating. He drew her in a gray-button up, jeans, and black high-heeled boots, once again he drew his model's back to the audience so her face was hidden. Stanford did, however, make a point to have her left hand in view so her wedding ring could be showcased.

* * *

 _For close to six years I've been married to the love of my life. S and I met her when we were children and have always been close._

 _She's always been there for me, supportive in every way possible from moving here to encouraging and helping my brother and I as we investigate the obbities. She's too busy as a nurse at the hospital, delivering babies and nursing the ones born premature or drug-addicted, to assist the same way S does, but on her days off she's more than happy to tag along and be of some assistance to us. She has freed us from an angry tribe of Manotaurs, slapped a vampire, she even surprised S and I with a boat for our birthday this year! She's almost as mysterious as Gravity Falls itself, never failing to amaze us._

* * *

Stanford took his time shading in his sketches and filling the pages. He yawned into the palm of his hand as he turned to the next page and was tempted to write one last entry for the night, but he was hesitant. He looked over to where Stanley and Hephzibah were, his wife still asleep, and Stanford closed his journal and stood up.

"I think I'm going to bed." He informed his brother quietly.

"You wanna take Hephzie with you?" Stanley asked, nodding his head to her curled body as she slept soundly.

Stanford smiled and gently ran a hand over her dreadlocks. "No, let her sleep." He bent down, kissed her forehead, and walked off for his bedroom. "Goodnight."

"G'night." Stanley called back and resumed watching the TV.

Once in his room, he closed the door and turned the lamp on his nightstand on. He took the time to change into his flannel pajamas and slip into bed, but he balanced his new journal on his knees and decided to record one last entry before bed, now in the comfort of his own room and free from unapproving eyes.

* * *

 _One more thing about me: I have a secret. Although I have relied my entire life on my intuition and intelligence to provide me with answers, two years ago I experienced a miracle while napping in the forest, and that has forever changed the way I think about the world and my place in it. I was contacted by a "Muse". I know it sounds crazy, but a strange being from a higher plane took sympathy with my search for knowledge and amazingly chose me to be a receptacle for divine and otherworldly insight._

 _As preposterous as it sounds, this being as provided me, again and again, with eerily accurate tips and predictions that have aided me in my studies. If it wasn't for this being, my wife may have remained a vampire forever._

 _Is this being a spirit, an alien, a dream, or merely part of my overactive imagination?_

 _Ultimately, interpretation is irrelevant. He is a fickle being who is unpredictable and only shows up when I least expect it. But I am always eager and ready for the next time he wishes to bestow his rare insights on my mind._

 _NOTE TO SELF: Must keep this a complete secret. If anyone finds about about this, they will surely think I am insane, and my grant money may be revoked; not even S or H can know. It is best to leave this part of my research in the shadows._

* * *

Stanford lowered his pen and sighed to himself. He hated keeping this a secret more than he thought he would, but he felt like he had no choice. He had known Stanley and Hephzibah his whole life, and if he had to guess their reaction to finding out about Bill, the end results wouldn't be good. In Stanford's mind, they would both just yell and say he's crazy. And he couldn't have that. He didn't think he could stand to face their fierce disapproval like that. They just wouldn't understand. For the sake of his family, it was best just to keep this a secret.

In retrospect, why was he even writing about his Muse if he was so paranoid of someone learning about it? To vent? To clear his head? Stanford reached into the drawer of his nightstand and fished around it for a red pen. His six-fingered hand touched his spare pair of glasses, his secret stash of jellybeans, a comb, and some coupons, until he pulled out a pen only to have it be blue. He put it aside and pulled out a red pen.

At the bottom of the page, he quickly wrote,

* * *

 ** _NOTE: BURN THIS PAGE AFTER RESEARCH IS COMPLETE!_**

* * *

Stanford put the red pen back in his drawer and decided to keep on sketching until he tired himself out, which may take awhile seeing that he was quite the night owl. On the left page he enjoyed drawing the forest and shading in the trees and shadows. He had just started shading in the dark, vast, galaxy he was going to make on the right page when the door opened slowly. Stanford shut the journal with a snap and put it and his black pen in his drawer as calmly as he could to avoid suspicion, but he didn't need to worry.

Hephzibah walked into the room zombie-like, clinging to the blanket Stanley had covered her with as it draped over her shoulders like a shawl. Stanford smiled as he watched her climb into bed and curl up like a rabbit; she was cute whenever she was asleep or tired. Hephzibah seemed to fall back asleep the minute she laid down. Stanford swallowed his urge to chuckle and he closed their bedroom door.

When he got back into bed, he took off his glasses and turned off the lamp, catching a glimpse of the time. It was almost one in the morning and Hephzibah had suffered from a long day at the hospital prior to falling asleep on the couch. No wonder she had no energy to speak of. Stanford pulled the covers up to his chest, but kept his arms free so he could wrap one around his wife and hold her close. Initially her back was to him, allowing Stanford to spoon her and hug her from behind, but in her sleep she turned and nuzzled herself against his strong chest, one arm over his body and the other curled up to his chest. Stanford had to hold his breath. Since when did Hephzibah get so cute? Although, if he knew what was good for him, he would never call her cute to her face.

With a quick kiss on his wife's forehead, he fell asleep, and was delighted when he opened his eyes and saw his Muse in front of him.


	29. Work

Stan was bored. He walked into the living room and saw a black video tape on the little end table by the couch, a piece of furniture usually used to hold coffee or snacks. It had no label, but Stan's mind raced back to when he had asked Hephzie to record an episode of their show, Brother Husbands. He didn't know why he liked it, but the drama that went on between Esmeralda's husbands was juicy enough to keep Hephzie and Stan watching.

"Sweet." Stan said as he popped the tape in the VCR. "Can't wait to see if Gabriel really is Rodriguez's son." Stan sat on the couch and turned the show on. He sat comfortably with his legs apart and watched as there appeared to be a hospital scene. "Oo! Did Romeo have another heart attack?" Stan leaned forward.

 _"_ _Alright, just relax."_

Stan squinted at the TV. "Wait… are these all new characters? Is this a flashback episode?" His eyes widened. "That's not pretty…"

 _"_ _Now PUSH!"_

Stan's mouth form a giant O and he leaned back as far as the couch would let him. "OH MY GOD! WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?!" Screaming filled the room as all Stan could do was sit in horror. "THIS IS THE WORST EPISODE EVER!" Stan yelled and tried to turn it off with the remote.

 _"_ _MAKE IT STOP, MAKE IT STOP!"_ The woman begged.

"I'M TRYING!" Stan screamed, but the remote wouldn't work. "AW, C'MON!"

An hour later and Stan was sitting in silence in the living room. He stared at the blank screen in front of him and all his mind would let him do was replay what he had just seen in his mind. What had he done that was so bad that God wanted to punish him like this?

The door opened and closed and Ford called, "I'm home, Stanley."

But Stan didn't answer.

Ford walked into the living room with his arms full of bags of groceries. "What happened to you, Knucklehead?" He asked with a chuckle, seeing how wide his mouth and eyes were. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"I'd rather have seen a ghost, Sixer." Stan groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Why, what did you see instead?" Ford asked as he put the groceries down on the card table to rest his arms.

"Bleeding… dilating… oh my God, the dilating!" Stan yelled out in misery and held his head with both hands.

"The dilating…" Ford said and saw that the tape on the end-table was missing. The older twin laughed and asked, "Stanley, did you watch a baby being born?! Hephzie is suppose to present that video to a Lamaze class! Why were you watching it?!"

"I thought it was the episode of Brother Husbands she recorded for me!" Stan yelled defensively.

"The episode is the tape on top of the TV." Ford said with a chuckle caught in his throat, pointing to the tape, which even had a sticky-note that read, _"_ _Enjoy the newest episode, Stan! You'll love it!"_

"Well, why didn't she take the tape?!" Stan yelled.

Ford shrugged. "They didn't need it until tomorrow. Anyways, I think you are overreacting." He added with a shrug as he unloaded the groceries.

Stan glared daggers at Ford. "Overreacting?!"

"Stanley, childbirth is a beautiful miracle that brings every human being into existence."

"Beautiful?" Stan asked as he walked up to the TV. "Beautiful, huh? YA THINK THIS IS BEAUTIFUL?!" And he turned on the tape so it started at the beginning.

The room was filled with the mother's horrid screaming and Ford's cursed eyes were glued to the screen. Both twins sat on the couch and stared, unable to stop for some unGodly reason.

"OH MY GOD!" Ford yelled in horror.

"I KNOW!"

"WHY DOES MA STILL LOVE US?!"

"I DON'T KNOW!"

"OH, GOD, WHAT IS THAT BABY DOING TO THAT POOR WOMAN?!"

"I DON'T KNOW!"

"OH, GOD!"

"OH, GOD!"

It would be a full hour, an entire sixty minutes and then some, of both men just staring at the ceiling before anyone said a word. Stan, like usual, was the first to open his big mouth. "And I thought I had seen it all when I saw that gnome taking a squirrel-bath."

Ford took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. "How in Moses' name do women do it?!"

"How does Hephzie do it?" Stan asked. "I mean, how many women give birth a day in that hospital? How many times she gotta see that up close?"

"Oh my fucking God."

"Stanford." Stan said in a mockingly-shocked voice.

"Shut the fuck up, Stanley."

"That's a lot to ask for."

The door opened and closed and Hephzie soon came into view, hanging up her black-leather jacket. "Hey, guys. Had a good day?"

"No." They said at the exact same time, neither one of them moving from their position on the couch as they stared at the ceiling.

"Why, what's wrong?" Hephzie asked and stepped into the room.

"You left your… tape." Stan muttered.

"And Stanley got it confused with the episode of Brother Husbands." Ford added in a low voice.

Now it was Hephzie's turn to laugh. "Y'all watched the birthin' video?!"

"Don't laugh!" Ford snapped and looked up at his wife. "It's not funny!"

"It's kinda funny." Hephzie pointed out slyly.

"You laughed!" Stan snarled and looked at his brother.

"Hephzibah, how can you do that?!" Ford demanded.

Hephzie frowned and put her hands on her hips. "It's not like I made ya mix the tapes…"

"No, how can you do that?!" Ford asked and pointed to the black TV screen. "How can you see that several times a day and still manage to go to work?! I thought you loved your job!"

"I do." Quite honestly, Hephzie loved her job as much as Ford loved his.

"Then she's crazy!" Stan told his brother.

"I'm not!" Hephzie laughed and turned the TV on again. "Look, I'll prove it. Watch…"

The two men yelled as they were forced to endure this torture one more time.

"Why have I seen this THREE TIMES?!" Stan yelled.

"Oh, shut up! Wait, watch, WATCH!" Hephzie said as she sat on the right arm of the couch, on Ford's right side. "See, the baby's out. Look."

The two men looked at the scene before them and their faces started to soften.

"See? Look at how happy the ma is, n' the pa. That's their own kid, their own baby. N' isn't the baby adorable?"

"He looks like he's covered in jello." Stan observed.

"She, Stan." Ford corrected.

Stan took a closer look and nodded. "She."

"That's why I love my job." Hephzie further explained as she stood up and reset the tape for the Lamaze class tomorrow. "Every day, new lives are bein' made n' new babies are bein' born, n' I get to be a part of that. I getta hold 'em n' take care of 'em so Ma can rest, n' every month for the first year they come in for a check-up n' I get to see how they grow. Yeah, it's painful as Hell n' gross for one day, but then ya get so much more, n' I get to be part of that. That's why I love my job."

"Oh, Hephzibah…" Ford awed.

"But you don't have to do… ya know, it!" Stan argued.

"True." Hephzie said with a roll of her eyes, hearing that phrase quite a lot at work, and she ejected the tape from the VCR.

* * *

Ford held his caliper up to his eyes and observed just how tall the gnome on his desk was. "Fascinating." He commented and looked down at the little guy he had stowed away for observation and an interview, or as well as an interview could be when your creature seemed to have limited speech. "What did you say your name was?" He asked the gnome.

"Shmebulock… Senior." The gnome grunted as he blinked one eye at a time, still holding his little arms out.

Ford quickly drotted the measurement in the journal, right by a tiny sketch of the creature. Behind him, Hephzie came into their bedroom, home from work.

"Hey, Fordsie." Hephzie greeted and kissed his cheek.

"Hello, my dear." Ford replied as he wrote down a note about how the height of a gnome can range from ten to eighteen inches. "Did you have a good day at work?"

"Oh, it was great! Omar's new parents filled out the adoption papers today! He's still really small, but his fever hasn't come back, so we'll be monitorin' him n' helpin' him grow until he can go home!"

"That's wonderful, Hephzibah!" Ford said, looking up from his journal to exchange smiles, quite relieved to hear that Omar would be okay; he remembered that his wife was worried about the heroin-addicted baby not making it when he was born way too soon and way too small.

Hephzie looked down at the gnome on her husband's desk and put her hands on her knees to get a good look. "Aw, who's this?"

"Shmebulock… Senior." The gnome said with his same dopey smile.

Hephzie smiled back and held out a hand to him. "Senior? Congratulations, sir."

Shmebulock Sr. held her hand hesitantly and Hephzie shook it politely.

Ford closed his journal and held out his hands for the gnome to step up onto. "Well, thank you, Mr. Shmebulock, for all your help. May I interest you in some mushroom chowder?"

"Shmebulock!" The gnome yelled as he sat in Ford's hands and nodded excitedly.

"Is 'Shmebulock' all you can say?" Ford asked as he and his wife walked to the kitchen with their guest.

The gnome looked down shamefully and nodded less-excitedly now. "Shmebulock."

"Oh, ya poor thang." Hephzie cooed and used a finger to scratch the side of his chin gently, just missing his unkempt beard.

Shmebulock smiled and was quite happy when Ford poured him a small bowl of canned chowder. Once he ate all he could and was washed it down with water, he left the shack and waved goodbye to the humans.

Later that night, however, Hephzie thought she heard whispering as she slept. She was half-asleep when she heard it and her first drunken-like thought was that Ford was whispering to Stan outside their bedroom. "Stanford, honey, I thought ya were asleep." Hephzie muttered, half of her face squished by her pillow.

Ford snorted in his sleep. "I am."

"Hm." Hephzie grunted back and fell back asleep.

Meanwhile, Ford was having an odd sensation that he was floating. Was he having another visit from Bill? No… with Bill, he never felt tired or drowsy, and he could open his eyes effortlessly. Here, he was still very tired. He felt something touch his arm, but he assumed it was his wife repositioning herself in her sleep. It didn't take long for him to sink back to sleep. Up until it felt like he was floating again. His high IQ made him pull himself from his sleepy state and he opened his eyes to find that he was not in his bedroom, but in the hall. He craned his neck to find that he was being carried by several gnomes, lying on his back and only fifteen inches or so from the ground.

"AAAAAAAAAAHHH!"

Hephzie sprinted into the hall just in time to see her husband do a backflip up to his feet and kick some gnomes off of him. "What the…"

"No!" A gnome yelled frustratedly. "Our offering for the queen!"

"Oh, I don't THINK so, Short-Stack!" Hephzie snapped and pulled out a shovel from the hall closet, usually used to scoop up snow by the doors, but tonight it would be used to hit gnomes. "Sweetheart, what's the square root of sixteen?"

"Well, I believe it's…"

"FOUR!" Hephzie yelled and smacked a gnome off of Ford's leg with a bang. It hit a wall and scampered off on all fours.

"Hephzibah, not that I don't appreciate the help," Ford yelled as he started to gather gnomes by holding them by their beards. "But it's too late at night for jokes."

Stan rubbed his eyes with his fists as he walked down the hall. "Will you two shut…" He stared at the cluster of gnomes that littered the hallway and yelled, "What the HELL is going on here?!"

"Apparently I nearly became an offering to their queen." Ford growled as he went to a nearby window, opened it, and dropped-kick a handful of gnomes out of his house. "And STAY OUT!" He shouted and slammed the window shut.

Most of the gnomes were gone by now, but that didn't stop Stan from vexing out some frustrations by kicking a gnome down the hall and out the door like a soccer ball. "Welp, I'm going back to bed. G'night!" He called from the front door and closed and locked it.

Hephzie scanned the hall for any signs of gnomes and was satisfied to see them gone, but she was still a little unsettled over the fact that they had gotten into the house somehow. "I think that's all of them."

"Well, I'm going to check every inch of the house and make sure they can't get in again." Ford said as he stood next to his wife.

"Good luck with that." Hephzie mumbled as she put the shovel away. "We still haven't managed to get rid of the Floatin' Eyeballs."

"I'll figure something out, my dear." Ford said and kissed her head. "You go back to sleep. I'm going to try and see how the gnomes got into the house."

"Ya should get some sleep, too." Hephzie said in a frustrated tone, but her husband was already out of the hall. Knowing too well how Ford never rested once he got an idea in his head, Hephzie sighed, held her spinning head, and went back to bed.

* * *

Ford slammed the door closed and leaned against it to catch his breath.

Stan poked his head out from the kitchen, as he was cooking the trout they had caught yesterday, and raised an eyebrow at his brother. "What happened to you?" He asked.

"Clean… beard… flying… shaved… cubs… razor…" Ford gasped out as he struggled to breathe.

Hephzie, who had been in the living room reading a book, walked in with said book in her hand and said, "Ford, I love ya, but if ya like bein' kissed you'll stay clean shaved." And she kissed his cheek.

Stan gagged and resumed frying the fish. "You two make me sick."

* * *

It was storming really bad in the forest. The wood-burning stove in the living room was going, making the shack cozy even as the wind blew so hard branches were snapping and rain fell so hard it felt like broken glass, and so Ford and Hephzie sat on the couch and watched Noches Llorosas, a Hispanic drama that they both loved to watch; Hephzie had discovered it when it usually aired right after Brother Husbands, the drama she and Stan liked to watch.

"No, Rosita!" Ford commentated. "Don't leave Julio!"

"But he cheated on Rosita with that _puta_!" Hephzie argued as the beautiful woman with thick black hair made a speech in Spanish; they both knew Spanish well, but were still grateful to have English subtitles.

"But they were on a break!"

"Yeah, but not even a day later Julio had sex with another girl!"

"But they were on a break! And Julio was drunk!"

Rosita whipped around dramatically and slammed the door behind her, leaving Julio to fall to his knees and yell, "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" to the ceiling.

The front door banged open, making Hephzie jump so bad she fell off the couch. Ford helped her up to her feet just as Stanley stepped into view, covered in mud and dripping wet like he had jumped into the Gravity Falls Lake.

"What happened to you?" Ford asked.

"I finally got around to testing that stupid Portal Potty!" Stan growled and wiped some access water off his face. "And I ended up stranded in the middle of the desert in California!"

"What?!" The married couple both gasped. While Hephzie ran to get a towel, Ford looked at the clock and saw that, yes, if Stan had been lost since this morning, he must have been traveling all day to get home. "How did you get back?" Ford asked as Hephzie came back with a towel and wrapped Stan up on it to try to warm him up.

"I took a bus, then ran out of cash, got kicked off the bus at Millican, and had to walk all the way back home!" Stan vented.

"Damn, you've had a rough day." Hephzie soothed as he rubbed his shoulders to try to get them warm.

"Yes, we're very glad to have you home, Stanley." Ford them snatched his journal and opened it to take notes. "Now, what was it like to travel via a toilet?"

Hephzie had to hold Stan back so he wouldn't jump Ford.

* * *

They were all out camping in the middle of the woods, deciding to have a fun little hiking trip to try to discover some new anomalies. That evening, they were all sitting by the fire and enjoying the night air. Hephzie was playing her harmonica while Ford and Stan roasted weenies. Hephzie was taking a break, having just eaten two hot-dogs, while the men were about to have their fourth helpings. After the song, Hephzie opened the bag of marshmallows and started to roast one; she liked her's as dark as the night sky.

When she popped it out of the fire, she hummed to herself and didn't wait to munch on it, paying the price for not being patient and burning her mouth with boiling fluff. Stan and Ford couldn't help but laugh as Hephzie opened a can of Pitt can chugged it to try to free her mouth of the burning pain, but the bubbly drink did little to help, but it was either that or use up water, and Hephzie wanted to be preservative.

She gave herself something a little more humbling to do while Stan and Ford ate their dinner and she used a stick to poke around the fire, stirring the hot logs and keeping the fire going strong and hot. Hephzie froze when something small hopped out of the fire. It had six legs that were camouflaged to look like logs, a body made of fire, and two big black eyes. When it moved it's legs like a spider's, Hephzie screamed and jumped on her husband, holding him tightly around the neck and wrapping her legs around his torso.

"FORD! Killitkillitkillitkillit!"

"H-H-Hephzie, I c-can't breathe!" Ford choked.

While it was known only between Ford and Hephzie that Stan had an uncontrollable fear of heights, only Stan and Ford knew that Hephzie was scared to death of spiders. Stan looked down at the weird creature and watched as it slowly crawled away from the fire. It did look and move like a spider, but it seemed friendly enough. It crawled towards the bag of marshmallows Hephzie had abandoned and Stan ran to the bag, not willing to give up their dessert.

"Hey!" Stan scolded and threw a marshmallow out for it to chase. "Go on! Get lost!"

The creature scampered towards the marshmallow and ate it, then ran off into the darkness of the woods to look for more food.

"Isitgoneisitgoneisitgone?" Hephzie asked quickly into Ford's shoulder, where she hid her face.

"Yes, Hephzibah, the Scampfire is gone." Ford soothed and patted her hand.

It took five minutes for her to stop shaking like a leaf and another ten minutes to let go of Ford.

* * *

One night, as the twins were treating themselves out to pancakes at Greasy's Diner, they heard bluegrass music and didn't waste a second to get inside the diner, knowing that the music wasn't coming from Fiddleford. Kill Billy couldn't get them while they were inside. No Shoes, No Shirt, No Service.

* * *

Ford scratched at a patch of bug-bites on his left arm as he got dressed. He knew having the sleeves of his golden polo rolled-up yesterday while trying to talk to Steve was a bad idea. He had used a megaphone to try to communicate to the tree-giant, but Stan ended up having to push Ford out of the way of a thrown deer. Before Ford slipped on his baby-blue button up, he noticed that his bites seemed to make words.

BATCH OUT FOR WILL

Ford shrugged off the Soothsquitos' nonsense and continued to get dressed for the day.

* * *

Ford was tired, so at first he didn't pay much attention to the floating suit-jacket. Almost. He stayed at the doorway and stared. He had an idea of who it was, and slowly as to not scare off whatever had his suit, Ford carefully reached a hand to the left of him, where his dresser was. Hidden in his sock-drawer was a pair of night-vision goggles. With a steady hand and a racing heart, Ford slowly opened the drawer, dug around for the tool, pulled it out, and slid it over his glasses. Soon he was able to see ahead. His theory had been correct.

Ford pulled his journal and a pen out from his trenchcoat and slowly sat on the floor to take notes on the Invisible Wizard he saw. He was actually quite handsome, with piercing blue eyes and chiseled cheekbones. He had a dazzling wand that Ford's eyes were drawn to and was currently wearing one of Ford suit-jackets, trying it on and setting his robe to the side, which was thrown on the queen-sized bed.

Without warning, Stan stepped up behind Ford. "Hey, Sixer, want some pop…"

"STAN!"

The wizard had jumped at seeing that he had been caught, one human seeing a flying suit-jacket while the other saw him. With a good-looking grin, the wizard flicked his wand and Ford's goggles turned into a bat.

"AH! KILL IT! KILL IT!" Stan yelled as he ran after it as it flew down the hall. "AH! IT'S TRYING TO TOUCH ME WITH IT'S WEIRD LITTLE BAT-FINGERS!"

Ford sprung to his feet and watched as his suit was thrown onto the bed and he had a feeling like the Invisible Wizard had left. Ford sighed and looked down at his journal. Oh, well. At least he got the wizard's outline.

* * *

Stan and Ford had gone out for another hike in the mountains. While Ford had looked at some unknown tracks, he thought he heard his brother talking to someone around the big boulder. This didn't surprise Ford; Stan had made friends with hikers in the past, usually sharing a can of soda and swapping stories. After a few minutes of studying the tracks and coming to the conclusion that he hadn't seen them before, he decided to ask Stan to borrow their camera so he could snag a photo of it.

He walked around the big boulder and opened his mouth to address his twin, but his words got caught in his throat by what he saw. With Stan's back to him and leaning against the mountain, drinking a Pitt soda, what looked like Bigfoot or yeti stood in front of Stan. The Cryptid had long brown fur/hair and wore both sunglasses and a cap on the top of it's head. It also seemed to wear cargo shorts and… did Ford need new glasses or was the beast holding a can of soda in between his big, long-nailed fingers? The most surprising factor of all was how mellow Stan was. In fact, he was casually chatting with the Cryptid.

"... and so I said, 'Where's your idea, Ugly?' That's how I got this scar." And Stan held up an arm to show where it looked like he had been cut along his under arm and then stitched back together. Ford might have winced if he still wasn't in awe of whom Stan was talking to. "Now how'd you get that tattoo?"

"Bro…" The beast only breathed.

"You don't say much do you?"

"Righteous!"

"Stanley," Ford hissed and walked up to his brother, who turned and smiled at him. "Wh… who… what's going on?!" He hissed.

"Hey, Ford," Stan said with a smug grin on his face. "Look who caught the legendary Bigfoot!" He gestured to the creature as it sipped his soda.

"I don't think that's Bigfoot." Ford said wearily.

"What?! Of course it is!" Stan yelled defensively. He turned to the Cryptid and asked, "What was your name again?"

"Bro."

"There! See… wait, what?" Stan asked.

"Bro."

Ford pinched the bridge of his nose. "Stan, you didn't find Bigfoot… you found the Abominable Bro-Man."

"The what now?"

"Exactly."

"Chill sesh." The Bro-Man said in a relaxed tone and a stupid smile.

"Don't tell me to chill you stupid mother…"

"Okay, Stanley, let's keep going." Ford urged, understanding his brother's disappointment, guessing that the entire time Stan had chatted with the beast he had been planning on telling everyone he knew how he gossiped with the one and only Bigfoot.

"Damn it." Stan said as he walked off with Ford, leaving the monster to tilt it's big head in confusion as to why it lost it's storyteller. "Oh, well, maybe we'll find the real Bigfoot one day."

"If Bigfoot really exists, I'm sure he got as far away from the Abominable Bro-Man as possible." Ford commented and dug through Stan's backpack for the camera.

* * *

Ford had Stan help him find a four-leaf clover in a field. After all, two pairs of eyes are better than one. The summer day was warm and the grass was soft like green carpet. Ford was running his hands along the grass, scanning for the lucky object to use in his luck experiment, when something suddenly appeared next to him and yelled at the top of it's lungs, "TOP O' THE MORNIN' TO YA!"

Ford yelled in shock and jumped back, landing on his bottom and his hands keeping the upper-half of his body up. Stan whipped around and laughed at the funny creature the twins had encountered.

It was a Leprecorn: a half-unicorn, half-leprechaun anomaly that was roughly the size of a hare and it had a rainbow tail and beard, a big nose, chubby, rosy cheeks, a unicorn's horn and a leprechaun's hat, having the head of a short Irish man and the body of a magical horse, but small. It had it's big, shiny eyes glued to Ford and suddenly the little guy jumped up on him and latched onto Ford's sideburn with his teeth.

"AH! GET IT OFF! GET IT OFF!"

Stan wiped a tear out of his eye from laughing and walked up to his brother, weight down by the Leprecorn.

"Hold on, Poindexter, I got it." Stan grabbed the Leprecorn around its body and began to pull, but it continued to chew on Ford's sideburn and refused to let go.

"Ow! Ow! OW! Stanley! You're pulling my hair!" Ford yelled.

"Quit whining, I almost got it!"

"OW! OW! OW! OW! OW! OW! OW! OW!"

Stan let go of the Leprecorn and huffed out in frustration. With watery eyes, Ford grabbed the annoying hybrid by its horn and tried to get it off of him. The horn proved to be it's sensitive spot, so it let go of Ford's aching sideburn, and the scientist threw it as far as he could, almost reaching the end of the field.

Stan held his hand over his eyes to shield them from the sun. "Wow. Good throw, Ford."

"Thanks." Ford growled as he rubbed the side of his face. "Let's keep looking for…"

"Uh, Stanford..."

The little Leprecorn trotted back happily, it's big smile squishing it's cheeks, and it yelled to the top of his lungs, "TOP O' THE MORNIN' TO YA!". With a dip of it's head, the horn glowed rainbow colors and began to play Danny Boy.

"Are you kidding me?!" Ford yelled as he slapped his forehead.

Stan picked up the Leprecorn like he would a kitten and scratched under its chin, just by his rainbow beard. "Aw, c'mon, Sixer, he's not so bad. A little annoying, sure, but so are you."

Ford rolled his eyes and resumed his search for a four-leaf clover. "If he's refusing to leave then there must be a clover around here somewhere…"

Right after Stan removed his hand from the Leprecorn's chin, a few gold coins fell out of it's beard and landed in the grass by Stan's feet. He grinned maliciously and picked up the gold. "Holy Moses! It's beard leaves gold coins!" Stan brought a coin up to his eye and then bit it to try and bend it, but was horrified when he found he could. "What the…"

Ford looked in time to see his brother lick one of the non-bent coins. "Stanley, what are you doing?! That came out of a magical creature!"

Stan scowled at the coins in his hands. "It's ain't even Fools' Gold! It's fucking plastic!" To let out some anger, Stan dropped-kicked the Leprecorn and then threw the plastic coins.

Stan also went back to work, wanting to leave this field and go home, but the twins both frustratingly heard the song Danny Boy get louder and louder, and sure enough the Leprecorn trotted back, prancing around them as his horn played the song on repeat. With an exchanged look and a nod, Ford and Stan both silently agreed that the four-leaf clover just wasn't worth it and they left the field.

* * *

It was Hephzie's day off from work, so they went fishing. They could've gone without her, but she proved to be great company when it came to fishing. They were in the middle of the lake when Ford caught sight of a group of ducks swimming up to the _Stan O' War II_.

"Stanley, Hephzibah," Ford called gently while the two munched on their packed lunch: an apple, a sandwich, crackers and cheese, and a bottle of water for each. "Come look. Ducks."

Hephzie stood and joined her husband by the edge of the boat. She looked out onto the water and admired the cute animals. "Aw… I bet a duck would make an awesome pet."

Ford chuckled and gave her an amused look. "You would like a pet?"

"Why not?" Hephzie asked with a shrug. "We could handle it."

Ford decided to tuck that idea away for the holidays. For now, he patted himself down for the duck whistle he had purchased at the bait shop and found it in the inside-pocket of his trenchcoat. He blew into it to see if any of them would call back. Ford, at first, smiled when one did, but then his face dropped when he saw a horrifying display of organs and intestines through the duck's mouth, all very graphic and definitely not rated PG-13.

"Sweet Lord." Ford muttered, too scarred to yell.

"What?" Stan asked as he joined them on the side of the boat.

Another duck honked back and another. Stan's eyes widened at what he saw and he looked over to find Ford had actually covered his mouth with his hand and looked a little sick.

"I take back that 'aw'." Hephzie croaked like a bullfrog.

Stan threw his sandwich as hard as he could across the lake and the ducks swam after it, leaving the humans alone. "I'm not hungry anymore." He elaborated and went to try to swallow some water.


	30. Northwest

Ford held Hephzie's hand with an excited grin on his face. He had somehow managed to drag his family out with him to town for Pioneer Day. The young scientist found he quite enjoyed the town's celebration of when Gravity Falls was founded, but Stan detested it while Hephzie really couldn't care less.

"Wow," Ford said as he looked around the town and all the different booths and tables they had. "It's like we have gone back one-hundred-and-nineteen-years! Look! You can make candles, eat meat, pan for gold." He added and elbowed Stan with a sly grin.

"Yeah, n' marry woodpeckers n' own a slave all here in 1863. Whoopee." Hephzie said sarcastically as she jabbed a thumb behind her to where a woman was marrying a woodpecker.

"Gravity Falls was actually the first city in Oregon to abolish slavery, it being one of it's first laws." Ford educated proudly.

Stan crossed his arms over his toned chest. "Still, I feel like I'm getting dumber every second I'm here listening to how they talk! Only yahoos and history-nerds could enjoy this!"

Ford chose to ignore his twin's negativity. "Hey look! Quills and ink!"

He ran over to a stand full of parchment, quills, and ink, where people were practicing writing their names or whatever they pleased. Hephzie gave a small smile at seeing Ford so excited over Pioneer Day and decided to swallow her irritation and tag along. If Ford thought his wife was cute when she was asleep, Hephzie thought it was cute when her husband was excited. Defeated, Stan followed in a grumpy manner.

Most of the event consisted of Ford running around the place, trying not to get too excited, but it was difficult not to spit historical facts or be intrigued about an old-fashioned washing machine, mostly just a tub scrubbing cloth with gears and brushes. Stan mostly just made snarky comments that made Hephzie laugh, but Ford was able to buy Stan's silence by getting him a bag full of old-timey butterscotch. They were at a booth full of jewelry and bandannas when Hephzie picked out a bandanna that looked like the American flag and tied it around her head, going from her forehead to her high-ponytail of dreadlocks.

She turned and held her fist up and put her other hand by her sleeve, where the gray button-up had it's sleeve rolled up a little past her elbow. "We can do this!" Hephzie laughed.

"Beautiful, my dear." Ford complimented and paid for the bandanna.

Their ears were tortured by the sound of a microphone's shining and the trio turned their attention to where an audience was standing in front of a stage right by the statue of the town founder, Nathaniel Northwest. Stan, Ford, and Hephzie watched as a little boy, about twelve years old or so, stepped up to the microphone and messed with his American-flag scarf that was tucked into his suit, accompanied by boots and a red fox by his side, who sat like a dog by his owner's left side.

"Good afternoon, Gravity Falls!" The boy said to the crowd. "My name is Preston Northwest, proud great-grandson of our beloved town founder, Nathaniel Northwest, and who also happens to be very rich."

The crowd applauded and Stan rolled his eyes with a grunt as he munched on a piece of candy. "Ugh. That little troll."

"Mm, hm." Hephzie nodded in agreement as she stole a piece of candy from Stan's bag and held it out of his reach as he tried to get it back.

"You know," Ford said as he pulled out his journal and scribbled down some notes. "I've actually been studying the town's history and digging deeper into it's lore…"

"I know." Stan growled as he watched his sister-in-law smugly eat a butterscotch. "I can't get ya to leave the library to save your life!"

Ford rolled his eyes and went on. "Gravity Falls' history may hold clues to discovering my theory. Plus, it's actually been very interesting and a great stress reliever."

"I'll take anythang that gets ya to calm down, sweetheart." Hephzie said light-heartedly and continued to watch as the Northwest boy gave a small speech about pride and Gravity Falls and what-not; it mostly consisted of how great the Northwest family was and how rich they were.

"Still, something is not adding up." Ford observed. "I know I haven't managed to decipher that letter I found in the box, but I think something fishy is going on." He closed his journal with a snap and said, "I'll catch up with you two later."

"Where are you going?" Stan asked as his brother started to walk off, a little irritated that it was Ford's idea to come here and now he was leaving Stan and Hephzie in the dust.

"Back to the library. I'll never find anything if I don't keep digging."

"I'll go with ya." Hephzie volunteered, but then got distracted by a herd of cows.

"Anything to get outta Pioneer Day." Stan grunted. He may hate the library, but he hated Pioneer Day more.

On their way to the library, just outside of the crowded ring of booths and stands, Ford and Stan actually ran into Auldman "Old Man" Northwest, Preston's father, and Auldman's wife, Elise. Preston resembled most of his father, except Auldman's hair and long beard was wavy, not straight. Elise was your typical blonde-haired pretty girl; both parents looked like they could be in their late-forties/early-fifties.

"Ah, Dr. Stanford Pines and Mr. Stanley Pines." Old Man Northwest greeted snobbish, but polite enough. "Good to see you could attend the festivities. Having an enjoyable time?"

"Yes, sir." Ford said with a soft smile and pocketed his hands in his trenchcoat.

"Splendid, splendid." Old Man Northwest said. "Well, it certainly is good to see you've managed to crawl out of the woods for some human interaction." And he laughed, but not in the way that invited Ford to laugh with him; he was laughing at Ford.

The young scientist frowned and opened his mouth to retaliate, but he heard Hephzie run up to him and she caught her breath with her hands on her knees. "Sorry, hon. Those cows were adorable! One licked me by the ear!"

Ford chuckled and forgot his anger for a second at seeing his wife having a good time. "How exciting, my dear."

"Ah," Old Man Northwest said as he lifted his head slightly and looked down at Hephzie, who stood up straight and wiped her sweaty-forehead dry with her arm. "This must be your…"

"My wife, sir." Ford said proudly; he could hear the disapproval in Auldman's voice and see the glare in his eye. Ford grabbed Hephzie's right hand proudly with his left and introduced, "Dr. Hephzibah Pines."

"Doctor?" Old Man Northwest repeated. "Impressive how a woman of your background can achieve such an advanced education. Then again, I'm sure having an intelligent partner for assistance must be of some validation to you."

Stan and Ford saw red over what Mr. Northwest was implying, meanwhile Hephzie gave her husband's hand a squeeze to try to lower his temper and she asked coldly, "N' what is that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, too many big words?" Mrs. Northwest asked gently, as if talking to a five-year-old.

With a raised eyebrow, Hephzie calmly replied, "Nah, Mrs. Northwest, but I gotta couple small words for ya…"

"Hephzibah." Ford said warningly and darted his eyes to the boy.

Stan munched happily on his candy and was now grateful that he tagged along to watch the two married couples fight.

"Hm, wicked temper that woman has." Old Man Northwest critiqued and looked at Ford. "How do you manage her? Must be quite the task?"

"I think you will find she manages just fine on her own." Ford growled through his gritted teeth, too angry to come up with a clever remark at the moment.

"Well, I suppose no one can say it wasn't admirable of you to… erm… take her under your wing and keep her in line. Quite the public service, even if not done so in the most appropriate of ways."

Ford waited a beat in case Hephzie had something to say, but when he caught a glance at her he was surprised to find her head a little lower than normal and she wasn't looking at the Northwest family. That was the last straw. Ford turned his attention back to Old Man Northwest and sneered, "Well, the same can be said for you, sir, for taking a stuck-up rat out of the town's hands. Thank you for making the streets a little bit cleaner."

Stan "oh"ed and put a hand over his mouth, a big grin over his face. Mrs. Northwest's face turned pink and she pressed her lips together. Mr. Northwest scowled at the Pines family.

"Don't you dare insult my wife like that, Pines!"

"Then keep your mouth shut about mine, Northwest!"

"Oh, but I would think a man of facts like yourself would have no problem hearing them." Old Man Northwest sneered like a bobcat.

"Well then it would make sense why a man of such lies would be so sensitive to the truth." Ford snapped back.

For the first time during the conversation, Auldman looked afraid. It was only for a moment, but Ford caught it. Mr. Northwest took in a deep breath and kept his back straight.

"You may the rest of the town fooled," Ford sneered in a quiet voice. "But you can't fool me. I know your grandfather didn't actually discover Gravity Falls, and I'm going to prove it."

"Oh, how I would love to see you try," Old Man Northwest muttered. "But you'll find that this town has secrets you and your misshapen family couldn't begin to comprehend, and if you know what's good for you, you'll keep your abnormally large nose out of other people's business." He glanced down at his son, who was looking up at his father curiously, and said, "Come, son. We have no business with these people."

"Yes, Father." Preston said and followed his parents away.

Stan looked at his brother and was unsettled by the big grin on Ford's face. "Uh, Sixer?"

"That proves it." Ford whispered to his wife and brother. "There's no doubt in my mind that Nathaniel Northwest isn't the town founder, and if we can prove it, it'll put the whole Northwest family in their place."

"Exposing those snot-nosed assholes for the scum they are?" Stan asked as he pocketed his candy in his jeans. "Count me in!"

Hephzie looked back at the town and her eyes followed the Northwest family. Getting an idea, she said, "Ya know what, I'll catch up with ya."

The twins ran off for the library, where they went straight for the archives in the basement floor. Ford scrambled for something that would help him uncover the Northwests' big secret while Stan tired not to sneeze over all the dust that was flying up his sinuses. Hidden in between documents, an old piece of paper caught Ford's eye.

"Stanley, I think this is it!"

Stan joined his brother from checking some boxes and peered down at the document. A big triangle with an eye at the top, scribbles in the center, and symbols here and there covered most of the parchment, with other weird drawings on the outside.

"What am I looking at here, the illuminati?" Stan asked as he squinted his eyes at the paper.

"This is exactly what we need!" Ford, running off of adrenaline, sped out of the room, up some stairs, and into the main area of the library to do some research. The old excitement for making new discovering, that achievement for finding answers, it was all coming back to him after years of frustrations when it came to his Grand Unified Theory of Weirdness.

"Ford!" Stan hissed as Ford quickly pulled out books and sat them on the table. "Slow down! What's the rush?"

"Stanley, do you realize that if we uncover the real founder of Gravity Falls, what it would do to the Northwests?!" Ford whispered, seeing how they were in a library, but he had to work extremely hard to keep his voice slow. "This could change everything!"

"And it'll be the perfect revenge!" Stan growled and raised his fists in the air. "REVENGE!" The librarian shushed him and Ford rolled his eyes.

"Right, let's get to work." Ford said and began to open book after book. "Okay… it's not alchemy... it's not Egyptian hieroglyphics… it's not numerology, either…"

Meanwhile, Hephzie had kept an eye on the Northwest family, but lost interest in the men as Old Man Northwest and Preston simply paraded around the town and sucked up all the glory. Mrs. Northwest, however, was sitting on a bench by the stage and warming up her voice, singing a range of notes.

"What is that stupid bitch up to now?" Hephzie muttered to herself.

"Oh, she's warming up for the competition." A voice answered, making Hephzie jump, but she saw that it was only Susan Wentforth, one of the waitresses at Greasy's Diner and a former crush of Stan's (he lost interest when seeing how clingy and creepy she really was after the first date). "They have tryouts every year for who gets to sing the National Anthem at the end of the day, but she always ends up winning."

"Really," Hephzie said as she grilled maliciously, being quite the talented singer herself and having years of choir practice behind her. "We'll see 'bout that. Where do I sign up?"

Some time later, at the library, Ford looked through another book to try to match any of the symbols with some form of coding. Was it Aztec? Or the same language as the Natives of Gravity Falls? Or is it, instead of an alphabet or coding, it's a puzzle? Ford thought he heard a snore, and sure enough, when he looked up at Stan he found he had fallen asleep in the chair.

Ford rolled his eyes and checked his watch. Shit, had they seriously been in the library that long?! He stacked the books and got up from his seat. He could crack the code tomorrow or tonight at home. He had to get back with Hephzie and get started on dinner. He shook Stan roughly on the shoulder and whispered, "Stanley, we're leaving."

Stan jerked away with a grunt and rubbed his eyes. "Thank God."

The twins left the library and blinked into the golden afternoon. When they heard music, they ventured to the stage the Northwest family had been on previously. Knowing Hephzie loved music, they guessed they'd find her there. There, the Pines men saw and heard Elise Northwest singing the end of _Let Me Know If You Love Me_ written by Olive Josh. She carried the note gracefully and high, and the crowd cheered. Mrs. Northwest was actually a pretty good singer.

"Up next, performing _Proud Molly_ , give it up for Mrs. Hephzibah Pines!" Someone announced into a microphone.

The crowd cheered as Hephzie got up on stage and Ford stared.

Stan crossed his arms over his chest and muttered with a smile, "Shoulda known…"

Quickly, Hephzie surprised the whole town with the strongest voice anyone had heard. Her years in the church choir really paid off as she smiled at the look of horror on Mrs. Northwest's face and she even jumped off the stage, mic in hand, and started to dance with the crowd. "Big wheel keep on turnin'! Proud Molly keep on burnin'! We're rowin', so we're rowin'! N' we're rowin' on the river! I tell ya, we're rowin', rowin'! We're rowin' on the river!" Hephzie sung as she swung her head and spun kids and danced with men and women alike.

Ford and Stan started to dance a little, the music being very contagious, along with the whole crowd. By the end of the song, as Hephzie proudly sang the last note, the whole town cheered so loudly ears ran and throats were sore, but no one cared. Ford yelled to the top of his lungs, "THAT'S MY WIFE!" while Stan hollered like a madman.

When Hephzie was done, she dropped the mic on the dirt and caught her breath, grinning from ear-to-ear. The crowd was wild and all seemed right with the world.

Up until things weren't.

* * *

"Hold still, sis!" Stan growled as he held Hephzie by her chin.

"I can handle it, Stan! I've had alotta practice, ya know."

"I know. Time to return the favor. Now hold still!"

Hephzie sighed and let Stan hold the small, wet rag to her eye; it was bruised and so swollen she couldn't see out of it. She was sitting at the kitchen table with her husband by her side and holding her hand while her brother-in-law treated her black eye after taking care of the nasty scrape on her right arm.

"I still _cannot_ believe you did that, Hephzibah." Ford scolded lightly as he rubbed her hand.

"She shouldn't have insulted ya!" Hephzie snapped.

"Still, you shouldn't have punched Mrs. Northwest." Ford said, trying to be the voice of reason, but it would be a lie if he said he wasn't exceedingly proud of his wife.

"To Hell with it. You did great, Hephzie." Stan laughed.

"They crashed into five booths and accidentally let loose a herd of angry cows!" Ford reminded them, recalling how after Mrs. Northwest had said something pretty nasty to Ford, Hephzie had punched her in the face and then both ladies got into a fiasco of a fight that rolled all over the downtown area.

"Again, she shouldn't have insulted ya!" Hephzie yelled. "Stupid motherfuckin' snot-nose bitch."

"Hephzibah!" Ford said in a shocked tone over her aggressive swearing.

"What?!"

"Hold still!" Stan scolded and he held her chin a little tighter to try to help the swelling of her eye go down. "Sixer, stop pissing your wife off."

Ford sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Besides, I got the better end of the deal." Hephzie sneered victoriously.

"And how did you manage that?" Ford asked in an exasperated tone.

"This'll be gone in a week." Hephzie said, gesturing to her black eye. "She'll have that bald spot in her head 'till Thanksgivin'."


	31. Zombies

Hephzie used the mirror by the door to look at her ear as she put on her second golden-hoop earring - her typical jewelry alongside her golden watch, wedding rings, and golden bracelets - but she wore it alongside a pirate outfit, sporting a crimson-red puffy crop-top, brown pants and high-heeled boots, a red bandanna over her dreadlocks, and her lips were cherry red. She looked down at the bowl of candy in front of her and talked herself into picking a piece to snack on. Hephzie chose a caramel, unwrapped it, and popped it in her mouth.

She heard footsteps and turned to find Stan walking from the kitchen and to the stairs, each hand carrying a bucket full of slime. Rather than a costume, he was all dressed in black.

"Stanley," Hephzie sigh in an exasperated tone. "Please tell me you're not goin' up on the roof to be on the lookout for teens."

"Okay," Stan said, pausing halfway up the stairs. "I'm not going up on the roof to lookout for teens."

"Than what are the buckets for?"

"To ward off vampires!" Stan said in a dignified tone. "And werewolves and zombies or whatever teenagers are dressed up as these days."

"Stan!"

"What?!" He yelled. "Gotta beat those little assholes to the punch! I'll be damned if they think they can get away with egging my house!"

Ford walked in (wearing a matching pirate outfit completed with captain's hat, an eye patch, and a white puffy shirt with a long brown coat) and saw his brother with the buckets of slime. "Stanley, what are you doing?" Ford asked as he flicked the eyepatch off from his eye so it was up over his forehead and above his glasses

"Defending our house from those pranking teenagers!" Stan yelled as he puffed out his chest proudly. It's not like he was a grumpy old man who warded people off of his yawn with a walking stick or a broom; he and the local teenagers of Gravity Falls had an unshakable rivalry based off of who could deliver the best pranks, and Halloween, Summerween, and April Fool's Day proved to be the worst days of the year.

"Don't you remember what happened last Halloween?" Ford asked. "You hid in the bushes and covered that little sunflower-girl and her mother in rotting milk."

"I thought it was them!" Stan said defensively. "Plus, it was getting dark and it was hard to see through the bushes and my knees were cramping! That's why I'm gonna wait for them on the roof!"

"Look, I know it's no fun wakin' up taped to the ceilin' or gettin' soaked by water balloons or havin' your car painted pink with glitter," Hephzie said, counting off the pranks on her fingers. "But ya weren't exactly an angel when ya were their age."

"I don't care if they prank other people, as long as they don't outprank me! It's about the principle! It's about the respect!" Stan argued. "No one out-pranks Stanley Pines!"

Ford pinched the bridge of his nose and gritted his teeth. "Fine. Do as you wish, but if you end up arrested for harassing minorities I'm not bailing you out of jail."

"Hephzie's got my back, don't ya, sis?" Stan asked as he continued up to the attic.

"I'll think 'bout it." Hephzie called up to him, smiling as her husband gently elbowed her in the ribs. The moment Stan was gone to keep an eye out for pranksters, the doorbell rang. Hephzie grabbed the bowl of candy and opened the door to find a small crowd of dressed-up children. "A-hoy, laddies!" Hephzie laughed in a pirate-voice but then dropped the accent as she passed out candy by the handful to each child, dressed in her pirate costume. "Great costumes this year! Y'all have a great night!"

"Happy Summerween!"

Hephzie closed the door and popped a piece of chocolate into her mouth.

"Isn't that candy for trick-or-treaters?" Ford asked with a raised eyebrow.

Hephzie rolled her eyes. "Fine." She walked out the door, and a second later there was a knock. Ford opened it and his wife said slyly, "Trick-or-treat." before sneaking a quick kiss.

"Ew."

Hephzie turned around and Ford looked ahead to find a nine-year-old girl dressed up as Dorothy and a five-year-old boy dressed as a fluffy dog at their doorstep.

Ford laughed while his wife grabbed the bowl of candy and he said, "Someday you may not find it so gross, young lady."

Hephzie did most of the candy-giving while Ford sat at the kitchen table and tried to crack the code that he believed would lead him to the real founder of Gravity Falls. At one point, while Hephzie was in the restroom, Ford answered the door to find kids dressed up as a zombie, a princess, a cowboy, and a red mushroom.

"Trick or treat!"

Ford grinned and pulled out a deck of cards. "I've got a trick!"

The cowboy shrugged and said sheepishly, "We'd… prefer a treat."

Ford grumpily pocketed his cards away and handed over a piece a kid, resorting in him getting snorts of thanks as they walked off. Ford rolled his eyes and closed the door, deciding to leave the whole candy-thing up to Hephzie.

As the night waned on, trick-or-treaters stopped coming since it seemed most people went to the house stranded in the middle of the woods first. While working to try to figure out the clue, holding his head one-handed with an elbow on the table, Ford felt a pair of hands massage his shoulders in such a pleasurable way that he melted like butter under his wife's touch.

"Ya know we can probably call it a night." Hephzie hissed by Ford's ear.

He hummed as he understood her. Hephzie kissed the back of his neck, making his gut squirm, and she ran a hand down his puffy shirt, tracing his chest with her fingertips. For the past few days, Ford had really worked hard on trying to prove that Nathaniel Northwest was a fraud, especially now that Mrs. Northwest gave Hephzie a black eye. Meanwhile, Hephzie had been busy at the hospital (luckily she was able to get off for the fun little holiday), and so she had been powerless to try to keep Ford from working too hard until now. Most likely she was planning on seducing her husband and getting him to relax.

Hephzie worked her way down and barely touched Ford's skin with her fingertips, making him shiver, and she soon squeezed his bicep and kept kissing the back of his neck. He felt his gut squirm violently and he found he couldn't take much more. Performing one of Hephzie's favorite acts, Ford quickly sprang up from his chair, swept off the code and books from the kitchen table, turned, picked Hephzie up, and sat her on the table. She chuckled in a low voice as he did so, but soon her voice was halted as he leaned forward and their lips met and overlapped.

Ford held her close as he kissed her, his hands running up and down her back slowly, feeling her slim body. He wished that puffy crop-top was gone, but he could work with it. He rested a hand on her shoulder and slid it downward, moving to her breast slowly, while Hephzie gripped him by his own puffy white shirt and deepened their kiss. She pulled him closer to her and soon Ford had laid her on the table and had a knee on the chair to help him be on top of her.

And then someone knocked on the motherfucking door, fuck! Or, at least, that's what it sounded like. Ford snapped his head up and Hephzie looked at it.

She sighed and tried to sit up. "I'll get it."

"Or, you could not do that." Ford offered in an irritated tone.

Hephzie chuckled and hopped off the table. "We can't leave any of the kids out, Fordsie. Ya know what that's like."

Ford sighed to himself and knew that Hephzie was right. She grabbed the bowl of candy, made sure her costume wasn't too ruffled, and she opened the door. Ford started to pick up the books he had let fall to the floor and expected to hear a "trick-or-treat", but all he heard was the slow closing of the door.

Ford looked up as his wife entered the kitchen with a confused look on her face. "I thought Stanley was supposed to be taking care of pranksters." Ford commented in a less-than-cheerful tone as he put the little stack of books on the countertop.

Hephzie shrugged and put the bowl of candy down. "Maybe it was just a branch or a gnome." She wrapped her arms around Ford's neck and gave him a long, deep kiss to chase away any frustrations he may have.

It worked. Ford kissed her back passionately and held her by the waist, bringing her closer and making it easier to deepen the kiss. As their lips overlapped and re-lapped several times, Hephzie slowly moved her arms inward, soon holding her husband by the sides of his face, her fingertips grazing his sideburns and her hands cupping his cheeks. Slowly, her hands moved down his neck and his toned chest. He may not have been as much of a boxer as his brother, but years of hunting down monsters and running from dangerous anomalies kept him in shape. Hephzie started to undo the string that laced over the low opening of his puffy white shirt. Not once breaking their kiss, Ford let go of Hephzie and allowed her to slip his shirt off of his arms, letting it hang from his hips.

The sound of breaking glass made the married couple break their kiss and look towards where the sound had come from, out to the hallway. Ford took off his puffy shirt from around his hips and tossed it on the table. Hephzie started her way to investigate, but Ford grabbed her left wrist. "Hephzibah, wait!" He hissed. "It might be dangerous."

Hephzie rolled her eyes and let her husband lead the way, slowly creeping to the door. They both stared at the little window in the door; a big hole had been broken into it, like someone had thrown a rock, but they looked around the floor for any sign of a thrown object and found nothing.

"Stan is a horrible watchman." Ford growled.

"He probably fell asleep while watchin' out for those teens." Hephzie guessed with a low chuckle and went to the door. She opened it and looked around for any sign of what might have broken the window, but once again found nothing.

Ford was right behind her and peering around the woods, but he didn't see anything, either. Suddenly, a low moan caught their attention and they looked out onto the long, winding road that led out to a view of the dark woods. They both squint their eyes to try to see ahead, but their eyes soon flew wide open as a pack of deceased humans with green skin started to walk towards the house, dragging their feet and guts along with them.

"ZOMBIES!" The two live humans yelled.

Ford slammed the door shut. Hephzie pulled out a handgun from Stan's brown leather jacket that hung on the coat-rack and cocked the weapon.

"Ford, please tell me you've already done your fair share of research about zombies n' know their weakness." Hephzie asked as she stared at the door, counting down the seconds until something would try to break it down.

"I've seen some in the past, but have somehow always managed to get away!" Ford answered and put a protective hand on his wife's shoulder. "The good thing is at least it's a smaller pack. They can come in bigger groups."

"So what, we just kick their asses back into the underworld?" Hephzie asked.

"Pretty much." Ford guessed, trying to keep calm but failing miserably.

A hand reached through the window and reached for the door knob to try to open the door. Hephzie shrugged her husband's shoulder off of her and ran to the door. She used the handle of the gun to beat on the hand and it fell off the arm. The arm retracted and the green-skinned hand laid on the floor like a dead spider.

Stan ran down the stairs, still dressed in all black but without his buckets of slime. "Are they seriously trying to…"

"It's not pranking teenagers, you knucklehead!" Ford yelled. "It's zombies!"

"Oh, thank God." Stan sighed with relief. "I thought those stupid teens had beaten me to the punch."

"STANLEY!"

"Right, sorry." Stan said and slipped on his brass knuckles as he pulled them out from his pockets. "Zombie apocalypse."

"It's not an apocalypse." Hephzie said with a roll of her eyes and a small smile. She tossed the handgun to her husband and pulled out a baseball bat from behind the couch in the living room. "We just gotta keep 'em out of the house."

"Right, like we've done such a good job of keeping weird stuff outta the house." Stan said sarcastically and stood beside his brother.

Ford opened his mouth to retaliate and come up with a plan, but the door busted open and a zombie grabbed Hephzie by the arm. The pirate with dreadlocks was pulled out of the house and the door slammed behind her.

"HEPHZIE!" Both of the twins yelled.

A second later, the door was kicked open and Ford and Stan were mortified by what they saw. The baseball bat was broken in half and on the floor. Hephzie's skin had paled with a slightly greenish-tint to her dark skin. Her eyes were pupil-less and ghostly, and a bite mark was on her arm. She grinned evilly, a grin that made Ford's stomach drop and his heart shatter, and she leaned against the door frame. "Mm," She hummed and licked her lips in the same way she might have when trying to be sexy. "Your brains sounds delicious."

"Hephzibah…" Ford was mortified, seeing his wife, the love of his life, turned into a zombie right before his eyes.

She dragged her feet towards the twins, her arms outstretched longingly, and the other zombies followed her into the house.

Stan grabbed Ford by the wrist and pulled him up the stairs. "C'MON! WE GOTTA GO!"

He paused when they reached the little flat part of the steps and punched a zombie that was too close for comfort in the jaw with his brass knuckles. Ford stood next to his brother and shot a couple of zombies, the hit of the bullets sending them back to the bottom of the stairs. Some got up slowly while some had their heads fell off and didn't get back up.

"Aw, now c'mon, boys." Hephzie said in a voice that sounded so dangerously like her that it was frightening. She seemed so much like herself, except from the fact that she was undead now. She stumbled over her feet and leaned against the wall, glaring at them with a wicked smile and empty eyes. "I just really want those brains. How 'bout ya, hon? Can't I get just one bite of your juicy brain?"

"Shit, this is weird as fuck!" Stan groaned. "Who comes up with this stuff?!"

Ford had pointed his gun at her the minute she spoke, but he lowered it and stared with wide, horrified eyes. How can he shoot his own wife? What if he lost her forever? But what if he already had? Stan beat Ford to the punch, literally, and punched his sister-in-law in the face, making her groan and hold her swelling cheek.

"Sorry, sis, but we're still using our brains!" Stan growled and he and Ford ran up the stairs before more zombies could catch up. They had to think of a way to defeat them, because beating the non-living daylights out of them was a temporary fix.

Ford and Stan both ran up to the attic and slammed the door closed. The attic was used for storage, holding holiday decorations, off-season clothes, things that belonged to Hephzibah's grandparents, and other useless junk that the three adults didn't have the heart to throw away. Good thing they hadn't cleaned out the attic yet, because that meant there were tons of boxes the twins could use to barricade the door.

Once that was done, Stan backed up and started looking around the attic. "Okay, let's see… we could escape through the window, or we could camp out here until they leave. Is there any chance you know their weakness, Sixer?" But there was no answer. Stan turned back to look at his brother. "Ford?" He asked in a softer tone.

All twelve of Ford's fingers were entangled in his hair. Ford clenched his hands and looked ready to yank his hair out. His eyes were wide, unfocused, and locked to the floor. He was trembling slightly and breathing hard, his exposed chest expanding and shrinking rapidly, but not much oxygen was getting into his lungs. Stan had seen Ford look like this before, and the last time he looked this panicked was when he was kneeling by Hephzie's body after she got ran over by a truck.

"Whoa, hey, Stanford." Stan said and put a hand on his exposed shoulder. "Calm down. She'll be fine."

"You don't know that!" Ford snapped and let go of his hair to smack Stan's hand off of him. "What if there isn't a cure?! I've seen a zombie mailman, a zombie cop, and a zombie Boy Scout before! Clearly they were never cured, so what makes you think Hephzie will be?!"

"Cuz she's lucky to have a smart guy like you around." Stan said firmly. "I know you're worried about her and ya gotta right to be; she's your wife, but she's practically my sister, Poindexter. We can and we will save her, but first we gotta deal with this shit."

Ford took in a few deep breaths and nodded. "You're right… you're right."

"Hey, there's a first time for everything." Stan said to lighten the mood and he patted Ford's back. "Now how do we defeat those zombies?"

"I don't know." Ford said and he began to pace the crowded room. "I don't know. I've never fully investigated the undead before. I do know that they move in packs and…"

Something banged on the door loudly, scaring both Pines men, and zombie limbs were poking out from the cracked-open door, trying to push past the boxes and get to the brains they so eagerly wanted. Ford took a step back while Stan leaned against the boxes to try to keep the zombies away, and when Ford backed up his elbow knocked over a box full of George Cece's old things. Records spilled out of the box and littered the floor, and a small hand-held radio built in the 40s fell out, too, and it hit the power button when it landed on the floor.

 _"_ _Ah, ah, ah, in a long, long time. Ah, ah, ah, in a long, long… If you said farewell to me tonight, there would still be songs I need to write. What else can I do? I'm so in love with you, oh! That hasn't happened in a long, long time."_ A singing quartet sung from the small speakers of the old radio.

Stan managed to shut the door and he looked at the radio on the floor. "Oo! _In A Long, Long Time_. Nice song."

The twins stopped when they heard what sounded like little explosions, like someone had stomped on a bag full of goop. Stan took in a deep breath, moved a few boxes aside, and reached for the doorknob.

"Stanley!"

Stan opened the door before his brother could stop him and winced. "Gross."

Ford looked over Stan's shoulder and stared when he saw six zombies with their heads exploded lying in the hall. They opened the door wider and Ford looked back at the radio. "Did… is… is music their weakness?" Ford stuttered.

Stan shrugged. "Let's try it." Stan picked up the little black radio and turned the volume up all the way. As the song played loudly, Stan held the radio over his head and walked to the top of the stairs. All the zombies in sight held their aching heads before they suddenly exploded and left the undead bodies to fall to the floor. "HA! It's working!" Stan cheered and walked down the stairs. "Kinda wish the song was cooler."

"This isn't some action movie, Stanley!" Ford snapped, not caring of the song was _Taking Over Midnight_ or _Don't Start Unbelieving_ , what mattered is that the singing quartet was working.

 _"_ _Maybe this will come back to bite, but if this is wrong then I don't wanna be right. Maybe I've been pushing too hard, but I've come so far and it's all that I've hoped for. Who knows how much longer we'll go on. Maybe you'll cry for me when I'm gone. I'll take my chances. I forgot how nice romance is; I haven't been there in a long, long time."_

Heads continued to explode. Ford paid close attention; if there was less than three people singing, then the zombies were only curious by the music, but once a third voice harmonized, the zombies were goners. By the time the song ended and the radio station had gone on a commercial break, the house was trashed by zombie-guts and the twins were at the bottom of the stairs, flabbergasted by what they had just seen.

Stan, as usual, was the first to break the silence. He turned off the radio and punched the air. "HA! Deal with it, zombie idiots!"

"Wait!" Ford yelled and looked around. "What about…"

"Brains… brains…" Hephzie moaned as she emerged from the kitchen, walking like a… well, walking like a zombie, believe it or not.

"Oh, boy." Stan sighed and asked, "What are we gonna do about Hephzie?"

"I think I know what to do." Ford said vaguely and ran for the door. "I'll be back as soon as I can!"

"Wait, where are you…" But Ford was gone and Stan swore he heard the sound of his Diablo leaving the driveway. He looked outside through the broken window in the door and yelled, "Hey! He took the Stanmobile!"

"Brains… brains…"

Stan sighed. "C'mon, sis, let's watch Brother Husbands."

"Oo!" Hephzie said normally and followed Stan into the living room. Apparently zombies can be easily distracted by TV.

About an hour later and Ford raced back into the house and into the kitchen. He read off of a recipe his Muse had given him and worked in the kitchen to mix up the potion. It didn't take long at all, and soon he ran into the living room to find Stan flicking through channels to try to find something that would catch Hephzie's interest and take her mind off of eating brains, but there was nothing on but boring news.

"Brains… brains…"

"Shut up, Hephzie." Stan growled, getting tired of her moaning.

"What, I'm hungry!" Hephzie growled.

Ford got on one knee in front of her and handed her a mug full of the warm potion he had made over a little saucepan. "Here, sweetheart. Drink this."

"I'll eat anything at this point." Hephzie growled and snatched the mug. She took a careful sip of the syrup-like liquid, unaware of Ford's pleading tone and anxious look, and she hummed peacefully when the taste graced her tongue. "Mm. Who knew not-brains tasted so good?" She took another sip with a small smile and Ford breathed easier.

"What did you give her?" Stan asked as he found a late-night showing of Grandpa the Kid and settled on that.

"A magic potion for curing zombification." Ford said, not taking his eyes off of his wife as she took tiny sips of her medicine. "It's formaldehyde, salt, paint thinner, newt's blood, and cinnamon."

"Cinnamon?" Stan repeated with a raised eyebrow.

"Mostly for taste." Ford clarified and continued to watch Hephzie.

As she drank the potion, her skin darkened to her usual beautiful, dark tone. Her eyes were closed as she sipped peacefully, letting the steam warm her cold face, and when she opened her eyes they were back to normal. Ford tenderly grabbed one of her hands and was delighted to find her skin not only lively and warm, but her pulse felt normal.

"Oh, thank goodness." Ford sighed with relief and kissed her hand. "You'll be okay. You'll be okay, Hephzibah."

Hephzie blinked a few times as if trying to think clearly and she suddenly blushed. "Oh, man… I'm… so embarrassed…"

Stan laughed and turned off the TV, having Grandpa the Kid on VCR and not really interested in watching the movie anyways. "Don't worry about it sis, just please try not to eat our brains anymore, 'k?"

Hephzie swallowed shamefully and nodded.

* * *

 _It was a little chilly in the beginning of November. Winter was coming. Stanford was walking with Stanley and Hephzibah down the sidewalk to the library after school. They stopped for a moment and waited for the go-ahead to cross the street. There were no cars coming and the little sign told the pedestrians they could cross, so for reasons unknown to anyone, including himself, Stanley ran across the street. Stanford walked patiently and only vaguely could recall Hephzibah reading a poster for the upcoming Holiday Festival before following her friends. Stanford was in a world of his own, thinking about what he would work on once at the library and wondering if he, Stanley and Hephzibah might go to The Juke Joint afterwards for dinner. He was so absorbed in his own thoughts he missed the screeching of tires._

 _"FORD, MOVE!"_

 _Stanford was shoved by the back and stumbled forward. His hand scraped against the concrete and his knee ached, but he heard a deafening crunch and turned back as soon as he could. "HEPHZIBAH!"_

 _The truck was gone as soon as it came. Stanford and Stanley bolted to her. She was lying on her stomach and a small pool of blood was already forming. Stanford was on his knees beside her and grabbed his hair to yank it out, but his hands were too weak to perform such a strength demanding task. His polydactyl hands trembled but they managed to gently scoop up Hephzibah and bring him onto his lap._

 _"Hephzibah! Hephzibah, can you hear me? Stanley, call for help!"_

 _Hephzibah moaned weakly and looked up at Stanford with half-opened eyes. "F...F…"_

 _"Shh, shh, deep breaths." Stanford instructed with a voice almost as weak as Hephzibah's and he gently smoothed over her cheek with his thumb. "Just focus on breathing."_

 _"F… Ford…"_

 _"I'm right here, Hephzibah. I'm right here." Stanford said softly and held her close to his chest, not caring about the little crowd that circled them or the good Samaritans that stopped oncoming cars, not caring about the fact that his clothes were being soaked by Hephzibah's blood, not caring about anything except his childhood friend that had just saved his life and may lose her own in doing so._

 _"Are... ya hurt?"_

 _"No." Stanford said, not sure if he should laugh or cry, so his body did both, his eyes welling up with tears as he chuckled. "No, you saved me. You saved my life, Hephzie. You're my hero."_

 _"Ya… Ford… m'..." Hephzibah slurred, her eyes flickering opened and closed and her thoughts disoriented due to the overwhelming pain._

 _Stanford's own eyes widened and he shook her gently to try to keep her close; he was terrified that if she closed her eyes, they would never open again. "No, no, no! Don't go to sleep! Please! Stay with me!"_

 _"... m'... c'ld…"_

 _Stanford laid her on his lap for a moment so he could take off his brown jacket. He quickly wrapped it around her shoulders and then held her close to try to keep her warm. "Stay with me, Hephzibah. Damn it, stay with me! Don't you dare leave me!"_

 _Stanley ran back to them. "An ambulance is coming! Hephzie, can you hear me? Just hold on! Help's on the way!"_

 _Hephzibah's eyes were only half-opened and she seemed to be losing her sight. Stanley knelt on her other side and her best friends in the whole world looked down at her, both trying so damn hard to keep it together, to act like men and do whatever they could to help her. Stanley took her hand with both of his own and held it tightly, but that didn't stop the blood from flowing or keep Hephzibah's eyes from slowly closing._

 _"Hephzie!" Stanley yelled._

 _"Hephzibah, please!" Stanford begged and held her tighter. "Please, stay with me! Stay…"_

 _But her eyes closed. And her hand went limp in Stanley's hold. And her skin felt cold. And the crowd around them weren't humans. They were zombies. One loomed over Stanford and he held Hephzibah protectively, close to his chest, and braced for impact._

He woke up just before the monster could sink it's teeth into Stanford's flesh.

Stanford sat up in bed and felt like he was going to throw up. His heart was racing, he was drenched in sweat, but he didn't care. He tried to take in deep breaths and count to ten in his head to regain his sanity, but it was slow going. He couldn't see thanks to it being so dark and the fact that he didn't have his glasses, but he soon felt a soft hand on his shoulder and a squeeze.

"Ford, breathe. Breathe."

Stanford tried to, he really tried, but his heart was still beating too fast and his breathing was still irregular.

"Stanford, honey, it's okay. It was just a nightmare. Breathe."

Stanford's brain finally registered the voice and who was squeezing his shoulder. He looked over to his right and saw the dark silhouette of his wife. "H-H-Hephzibah?" He panted in between breaths.

"That's right, m'right here. Just focus on breathin'. In n' out, c'mon."

Stanford could feel her fingertips slide under his right hand - both hands were gripping the mattress tightly - and lace their fingers together, her five dark, slim, soft fingers in between Ford's six pale, strong, toned fingers. The hand on his shoulder moved down to his back and rubbed circled right below his shoulder-blades.

It slowly became easier to breathe. With fresh air in his lungs, his mind was fully able to comprehend what had just happened. Stanford had had a nightmare, one that had felt so real. He was in bed, his wife next to him. He felt a sudden wave of guilt and shame and he used his free hand to pinch at his shut eyes.

"I'm sorry." Stanford muttered through gritted teeth.

Hephzibah smiled softly and only continued to rub his back. "In sickness n' in health, for better or for worse, remember?" She turned on the lamp on her nightstand, stared wide-eyed at Stanford, let go of his hand, and felt his forehead with the back of her hand. "Hm. Hold on a minute, 'k?"

Hephzibah kissed her husband's cheek, got out of bed, and left the room. Stanford groaned in frustration as he laid against the wall of the queen-sized bed. This was ridiculous. He had woken up from a nightmare like a terrified child and was now probably sick. He didn't feel sick necessarily, but he didn't feel one-hundred percent healthy and Hephzibah was the medical expert, so if she said he was sick he probably was. Stanford ran a hand through his hair and felt how oily it was. Not only did he have a near panic-attack over a nightmare, but he woke up his wife. His wife…

Stanford slipped on his glasses and looked at the gold ring that was on his left hand. He used to be so shy about his birth defect, pocketing his hands when given the chance or hiding them behind his back, but having that ring helped give him a reason to show his hand proudly. He was married, had been married for almost six years. Wow. Six years this July. Wow. He knew it had been nearly six years since moving to Gravity Falls, he had recorded it down in his third journal, but still. Every so often, Stanford had a moment of complete awe of amazement that he was married to the woman he loved more than anything. Maybe Hephzibah would finish telling a story from work, or maybe she would get into a fight with Mrs. Northwest, or maybe she would be covered in flour in the kitchen, trying once more to make a good no-bake cheesecake. Whatever it was, a few times already Stanford would find himself unable to believe that, not only did the six-fingered freak get married, but he got married to such a wonderful woman.

Stanford sighed at the golden ring on his left hand and can remember how nervous he was when it was time for Hephzibah to slip on his wedding ring. Hephzibah's hand and ring had been easy to do, but Stanford was wondering what was going through her head as she slipped the ring on his finger. On which finger would she choose? The second to last finger or the third to last? He didn't necessarily have a regular middle-finger, ring-finger, and pinkie like his wife did, but she slipped the symbol of their marriage on his second to last finger and ever since Stanford had always slipped his ring on that finger. He wondered if the reason Hephzibah slipped it on that finger was so that, if ever Stanford decided to give someone his special double-middle finger for twice the insult, his ring wouldn't be included in such a rude gesture that he only used if absolutely deserving.

Stanford was snapped away from his thoughts about his wedding ring when he heard Hephzibah walk back into their bedroom. She was wearing her light-purple silk nightgown and had a glass of water in her hands. She held the drink out to him. "Here, ya gotta rehydrate."

Stanford took the drink; he wasn't sick, but overheated and dehydrated. "Thank you, my dear." He sipped the old water and instantly felt better. He didn't realize how much his mouth felt like the Sahara Desert until it was wet again. He gulped down his water a little quicker and stopped when the glass was half-empty.

Hephzibah sat on Stanford's side of the bed, on his left side, and took his left hand with her own left hand. "Any better?"

"Much."

"Good." Hephzibah gave his hand a gentle squeeze and smiled softly at him. Hephzibah had many different kinds of smiles: she had a sly smile like a fox she wore after winning a game of poker or pinching Stanford's butt when he tried to cook dinner, she had a bashful smile accompanied by rosy cheeks and sparkling eyes, she had a trembling smile with a bit lip and watery eyes, and a soft, loving smile that could smooth out the roughest edges. It was a smile that hugged Stanford's soul and let him know that everything was okay. Hephzibah was a tough gal, not keen in showing affection (much like the twins), but she knew there was a time and a place to show a little more affectionate love, and this was it.

Stanford loved that smile, but when he looked at her, for a moment he saw that wicked smile she had when she was a zombie a few hours ago and tried to eat his brain.

Her smile lessened a little at seeing the look on her husband's face. Something was bothering him and he would tell her what. "Ford, are ya sure you're okay?" Hephzibah asked quietly.

Stanford put the glass down on his nightstand and joined his now free right hand with he and Hephzibah's left hand. He held her left hand tightly and looked at it, how her dark skin shone in the dim lamplight, how it wasn't pale and sickly with death, how it was warm and not dead cold. He saw the wedding band and the engagement ring sparkle in the little light the single bulb provided. He also saw a hallucination of her hand falling limp, like in his dream, and so he held it a little tighter.

"I almost lost you tonight." Stanford muttered, so quiet that it took a minute for Hephzibah to register.

She ran her free right hand through his hair. "Ya had it under control. I'm here n' safe n' not a zombie thanks to ya." Hephzibah said in a soft voice to try to reassure her husband that everything was okay.

"It shouldn't have happened to begin with." Stanford argued. "I'm supposed to take care of you, provide for you, and protect you. But I didn't. I almost lost you… again…"

Hephzibah sighed sadly and scooted closer to him. She set her hands free to hug Stanford around the shoulders. He returned the hug and buried his face in her shoulder. He could smell cocoa butter, her favorite lotion, and just her overall scent. The familiar scent reminded him of her, of comfort and home and love. He breathed and kept his arms wrapped around her waist tightly.

"Stanford, I'm not goin' anywhere any time soon."

"I want to believe you."

"Than why don't ya?"

Stanford paused. He was ashamed to not have more faith in his wife and he was ashamed of his fears, but he had to admit them. Admitting your fears is the first (and most difficult step) in overcoming them. He had to trust her. He had to trust her. And, goddammit Stanford wanted to so badly, but it was easier said than done. To fully trust her, and Stanley too for that matter, would put them in harm's way. It would mean sharing a burden he alone should have to carry. Stanford couldn't protect Hephzibah from a stupid truck, and he couldn't stop her from being bitten by a stupid vampire or a stupid zombie, but he could protect her from whatever stupidity was going on inside his head. Stanford's only response was to hold her tight and whisper, "I love you. I love you so much."

"I love ya, too, Fordsie."

It didn't take long for Hephzibah to let Stanford go so she could crawl into bed and turn off her lamp. Stanford put his glasses away and laid down to try to get a little more sleep, but a part of him didn't want to. He was close to getting up for the day, even if it wasn't day yet, and getting to work in order to distract himself from his worries and nightmares, but before he could decide what to do, Hephzibah laid by his right side and curled up to him, her right arm draped over his toned chest. Stanford turned slightly and hugged his wife like a child holding a teddy bear. Exhaustion overcame him, but he found it calming and relaxing. Stanford closed his eyes, and before he knew it, it was morning and Hephzibah was kissing him awake.

Unfortunately, they spent the whole day cleaning up the house from zombie parts and goo and throwing away the undead.


	32. Truth

Ford marveled at the small wooden box he had on his desk in the thinking parlor. His brother had helped dig the box up from deep in the woods and now, both of them now caked in mud from the knees down and the elbows up, seeing how Mother Nature decided to send rain down on Gravity Falls halfway through the chore. They stood and looked down at the little box that held a pair of golden dentures.

"Truth Teeth, huh?" Stan said as he peered down at the unusual treasure. When he was a kid, he had envisioned them digging for gold someday, but not this kind of gold.

Ford chuckled and said, "I'm surprised you haven't stay as far away from them as possible, Stanley."

The younger twin raised an eyebrow and gave his brother what would have been a skeptical look if not for the small smile that came with it. "What's that supposed to mean, Poindexter?"

"Well, truth be told, you do have a tendency to lie a lot." Ford answered with a sorry-not-sorry shrug.

"Okay so not only are you insulting me, you're using puns, too?" Stan asked with a small hint of laughter in his voice. "Besides, you're one to talk about lying!"

The argument Ford had ready that his earlier pun was unintentional died in his throat. "What?! I don't lie! At least not as bad as you and Ma."

"Yeah, well, Ma had to do it to put bread on the table." Stan said with a shrug. "And old habits die hard. Whatever, even if Ma and I do lie a lot, I know for a fact you lie a lot, too."

"No, I don't!" Ford gasped, slightly offended, but he mostly exaggerated for comedic effect to make his brother laugh. "I don't lie!" Once he repeated it he regretted it. He did… no! Keeping secrets is not the same as lying! As long as no one asked him about his Muse, he would never have to lie.

Stan gave a malicious grin, a grin that Ford recognized a little too well, and he slammed a hand on the table by the teeth. "Oh, yeah? How about a bet?"

Ford crossed his arms over his chest and smiled. "A bet?"

"I bet you can't go a week with… no! Better yet, a whole day without lying!" Stan dared as he pointed at his twin.

"So, what? Are you suggesting that I wear the Truth Teeth for a day?"

"No, I'm _daring_ you to." Stan challenged, like all brothers should. "Tomorrow morning, first thing you do when you wake up is put the teeth on, and ya can't take 'em off until the next morning, a whole twenty-four hours without lying."

Ford held his cleft chin and gave it some thought. He knew he could go a whole day without lying easily, but he wondered if he could go a whole day wearing those dentures comfortably while he still had all of his teeth. He looked down at the dentures and saw that, while they could be used to replace a whole set of teeth, they were also hollow enough that Ford could probably wear them over his usual teeth just fine. Likewise, it was only for a day, and if it would take Stan down a peg and prove Ford to be an honest man… "Very well," Ford accepted and let go of his chin. "I'll wear the teeth for twenty-four hours, and when I do, you…" He gave it some thought. What would Stan hate more than anything? "You have to do the dishes for a month!"

"What?!" Stan yelled in utter horror, as if he thought Ford was hitting below the belt. He glared and said, "Fine, but if you take off those teeth before the day's up, ya… ya have to sing an apology song, written by me!"

"What?!" Ford gasped, mortified, but the humiliating penalty for losing only made the young scientist want to win even more, and so he said, "Fine by me, because I won't take off the teeth! You got yourself a deal!"

"No, you got yourself a deal!"

"DEAL!"

"DEAL!"

The twins shook hands on it and gave a short nod with ugly scowls on their faces, each stubborn Pines man determined to win.

* * *

Like he promised, when Ford woke up the next morning he slipped on his glasses and popped the Truth Teeth into his mouth sneakily while his wife still slept behind him. The teeth glowed gold for a moment once tightly over his own teeth, but after biting on air for a minute Ford smiled when seeing that his theory was true; it almost felt like he had gum over his teeth or something. Maybe there was a magical property that helped them to fit well? He'd have to do a full examination after the day-long experiment.

Today was Hephzie's day off from work, so she slept in a little longer than usual. By the time she got up and went into the kitchen for coffee, Stan was in the living room watching TV and, according to him, Ford was in the thinking parlor. After Hephzie had her coffee, she worked on a little experiment of her own.

Hephzie was proud of being different. Ever since she was a child, she was proud to wear overalls rather than a dress, to play in the mud with her friends instead of with dolls inside, to swear very unlady-like and to spit like a man. Still, that didn't mean she wasn't a lady; she loved to get her hair done and gossip with the women in the salon, as a kid she may or may not have forced Ford and Stan to play tea party every once in awhile, and there were times she wished she knew how to cook.

Madeline was an excellent cook; she won several prizes for her pies and her food was always the best, and Hephzie wasn't necessarily jealous, but it was increasingly frustrating that she couldn't cook at all. Hephzie learned over the years that she was decent at mixing ingredients and pretty good at chopping veggies and meats; it was the stove and oven that kicked her ass in the end. No matter how closely she watched the food, no matter how low the temperature was, no matter who was with her, she always managed to burn the food! And it wasn't slightly over-cooked but still edible burned! It was a charcoal-black burned! It was a minute away from being ashes burned! It was turned food into hockey pucks and make the kitchen smell for a few days burned! Figuring the whole Hephzie-burning-everything-she-touches problem was on the long list of anomalies Ford wanted to explore, but until then she thought she found a loophole.

After eating up time by reading a book on the back porch and letting it sit in the fridge for an hour, Hephzie pulled out a beautiful no-bake cheesecake from the fridge; it was smooth and decorated with two strawberries on the center. It was about lunch time, so she pulled out a knife and began to cut into the cheesecake for the ultimate test. Just then, Stan and Ford walked in.

"Mm! Hephzie, when did you get a cheesecake?" Stan asked as he licked his lips.

"I made it." Hephzie said proudly as she cut a slice and put it on a plate.

Ford stared at her. "You did?"

A little color came to Hephzie's cheeks and explained, "Yeah, well… thought it'd be nice to make some food, n' this thang doesn't have to be cooked, so I figured there's no way I can mess this up, right?"

"Actually, there are several ways you could mess this up." Ford stated bluntly. "You could have used the wrong ingredients, you could have used the wrong measurements - say, used a tablespoon instead of a teaspoon - or you could have taken it out too soon, you could have…"

"Okay, okay, I get it!" Hephzie snapped. "Thanks for the mode of confidence, hon. Appreciate it." She said bitterly and looked down at the cake she was cutting.

Ford blushed a deep crimson red when he saw that he might have touched a nerve.

Stan, smiling for reasons only known to Ford, sat down and said, "Well, I'll try a slice, sis! You know I'll eat anything!"

Hephzie smiled weakly and handed Stan the slice she had already cut.

Ford surprised her when he sat down and politely asked, "May I try some as well, please?"

Hephzie's smile grew a little stronger and she cut two more small pieces. Once everyone had a piece and a fork, Hephzie stalled into biting into hers to see the twins' reaction.

Stan seemed a little shocked at first when the cake touched his tongue, but he soon pulled the fork out of his mouth, clean, and he smiled. "Mm! Not bad, Hephzie! It's pretty good!"

Hephzie's spirits lifted. "Really?"

Ford frowned a little and said, "Honestly, it's most likely the worst cheesecakes I've ever had."

Stan nearly spat out his bite of the bitter cheesecake from trying not to laugh and also pure shock that his brother would say that to his wife.

Hephzie was also shocked, but she soon wore a look that could kill and crossed her arms over her chest. "Really?" She asked coldly.

"The texture is decent and the crust is okay, but the cream is disgusting… are you sure you used sugar?"

Hephzie opened her mouth to retaliate, but she gave the question some more thought and decided to investigate. She took a small bite of her own slice, and immediately coughed it back into her plate. "You dare call yourself a cheesecake?!" Hephzie demanded and ran to the cupboards to try to figure out where she went wrong. "What the… oh, fuck me!"

"I would, but we are out of condoms and we both agreed that we are not ready to have children." Ford stated bluntly.

"Stanford!" Hephzie gasped, in utter shock that her husband would say that, especially in front of Stan. She was too shocked to decide if she was hurt or entertained by Ford's overuse of honesty.

Stan held his head and tried to rub away a headache. "I didn't need to know any of that…"

"Well, I'm sorry, guys." Hephzie apologized and threw the cake away. "I accidentally used salt instead of sugar. Whose bright idea was it to make the sugar-bag and the salt-bag look so similar?! I mean, they're both white and yellow!"

There was a knock at the door and Ford stood up. "It's probably the mailman. I'll get it."

Ford went to the front door and did in fact see the mailman at the front door with a package in his hands and a few envelopes. He was a nice young man with long hair and beard, mustache, and hair all over his chest and arms. "Good morning, Mr. Pines." The mailman said in a rough voice, but he was still nice enough. "I just need you to sign here."

"Yes, sir." Ford said, accepting the pen and clipboard and he sighed the form that stated that he got the package. He took the mail and added, "By the way, I couldn't help but notice how abnormally hairy you are. Is there any chance that you're a werewolf or perhaps related to one?"

The mailman blinked. "N-No."

"Are you sure? Because you have shown traces of canine behavior and your appearance speaks high levels of a possibility of having some form of wolf-like genetics, and…"

Stan was behind Ford the whole time and caught sight of the mailman's eyes growing watery and his beard trembling. Stan managed to slowly close the door before things got worse, but he could have sworn he saw the mailman walk away quickly and wipe his eyes with a hairy arm. "Damn, Sixer," Stan said. "You made the mailman cry."

Hephzie stepped into the hall and asked, "Ya did wh… ya know what? I don't wanna know." Hephzie held out a piece of paper to Stan. "I need ya to go to the store."

"Sure thing." Stan said and took the paper, but he looked at it and saw that it was a doodle of a ghost. "Uh, sis, this isn't a shopping list."

Hephzie looked down at the paper and said, "Oops, hold on." She turned the paper over and revealed a shopping list. "There we go. I was bored earlier."

"Gotcha." Stan said and pocketed the shopping list in his jeans. "C'mon, Poindexter, you could use some fresh air." Plus, Stan knew Ford's chances of taking off the teeth and losing the bet were even better out of the house.

Stan made Ford drive, claiming he wanted a nap, and so Ford drove them both to the store to get a few things. The trip was… eh, it was a mixture of things for Stan. On one hand he was enjoying seeing his brother make a fool of himself by telling the truth, but he was also getting slightly annoyed by how much more obnoxious Ford was when he was honest; Stan got to a point where all he wanted was for Ford to lose the bet already, but the older twin was just like any other Pines and as stubborn as a mule.

The errand was less than fun. Ford loudly pointed out how spoiled a fat boy was when he demanded his overly-worked mother for sweets and the truth-telling scientist ended up getting hit in the face with a purse. Ford also commented on how he thinks people who buy their jelly and peanut-butter in the same jar have reached a new kind of low just as a guy was grabbing a jar, making him leave the aisle with a red face. Stan was mortified when they reached the end of the list and, after grabbing eggs, bacon, peanut-butter, lettuce, green onion, coffee and creamer, they needed products for when Hephzie was on her "shark week" as Stan liked to call it.

Now, growing up in a house full of men apart from their mother, the twins had no clue what women had to go through once a month until Hephzie turned thirteen and her stomach hurt one day at school and had to tie her jacket around her waist to cover some blood. Hephzie had been very discreet about it, knowing what it was, but to make a long story short Stan and Ford thought her appendix had ruptured and they tried to call 911 while she was in the bathroom, but were stopped in time by a crabby teacher. Mostly thanks to the traditional idea that "shark week" should be taboo, the subject never really came up, but whenever Ford had to pick up some extra chocolate and "lady products" at the store or Stan had to scrub a stain with baking soda, they never once complained. Those were just the perks of living with a female, and they learned quickly that there was no shame in picking up a hygiene product that is needed as much as anything else, like soap or toothpaste or toilet paper.

Then again, that didn't stop Stan from swallowing, making his Adam's Apple bobble, and worrying about what his brother might say with those stupid Truth Teeth in his mouth. Stan could try to leave his brother behind, maybe send him to the long check-out line while he ran and got what they needed, but Ford peered over his shoulder and read the shopping list.

"Ah, Hephzie needs pads. Right. I think she likes the blue box the best."

Stan let out a huff of breath as he followed Ford to the beauty-section of the store, and past the shampoo and hair dye, taking up almost an entire wall, shelves full of different pads and tampons towered over the two men like a monster, waiting for them to pick the wrong brand. "So… which is it?" Stan asked.

"I don't know." Ford admitted. "The blue box?"

"Half of them are blue, nerd!" San yelled as he rubbed his forehead. Maybe they should get some painkillers while out today.

"I know that!" Ford snapped and picked up a box that looked similar, but not quite. "I think this might be it."

" _Might_ be?" Stan repeated.

"Well, it looks similar to what she usually buys, but I can't tell for sure." Ford answered as he read the box and tried to figure out if it would please Hephzie.

"Damn it, Ford, she's your wife!" Stan growled. "Don't you ever pay attention to what she puts in your bathroom?"

"I usually try to avoid looking at the box, because I'm uncomfortable with the fact that my wife goes through immense pain every month and bleeds profoundly so her body can reproduce, so I avoid looking at the box or talking about it at all costs." Ford said bluntly.

Stan pinched the bridge of his nose. "Welp, could've been worse." He muttered to himself, grateful that Ford's honesty didn't bring him to say worse.

"Hold on… I don't think this is the right size." Ford added as he held his chin and reread the box.

"Oh, for FUCK'S SAKE!" Stan yelled as he threw his arms up above his head.

It took another ten minutes to finally decide on a box and Ford agreed to go out and get the right brand if Hephzie proves their guess to be incorrect. On the bright side, when they checked out the cute cashier with a brown pixie haircut and pretty pink lips smiled as she scanned their items and said,

"I wish my dad and brother were as cool about getting pads as you guys."

Stan smiled and leaned against the counter. "Well, a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do."

Ford walked away with his arms full of groceries and recite for their items, but Stan walked away with a phone number from the cute cashier.

Once again, Ford drove them home, exiting the more normal part of town that wasn't too far from the hospital Hephzie worked at, passing through downtown, and entering the backroads for the cabin. Now, the speed limit the whole way home was 45 miles per hour, including the backroads, but since nobody ever drove on the backroads it was common for drivers to speed up to 60 miles per hour. Ford wasn't nearly as bad about speeding as Stan, but he did occasionally speed; he wasn't a complete goody two-shoes.

Unfortunately, Ford was caught going twenty miles over the speed limit by a cop and had to pull over. Ford swore under his breath while Stan grinned, tapping his fingers together and laughing maliciously. There was a reason why Stan made his brother drive. Let's see how those Truth Teeth help out Ford now.

The cops of Gravity Falls were some of the dumbest cops Stan had ever met, and he had met a lot of cops in his day, but there was one cop that turned Stan from a silver-tongued criminal into a timid Boy Scout: Sheriff Rose Mustang. She was a hard-core, older Hispanic woman with a voice as hard as steel and eyes as cold as a winter's night. With her long black hair always tied up in a tight bun and her jaw as sharp as a knife, it was thanks to her that Gravity Falls had one of the lowest crime rates in Oregon. She and Deputy Roosevelt, a freckled older gentleman who was usually the calmer and wiser of the two, walked up to the red Diablo.

"Alright, Pines," Mustang sneered and popped open a pen. "Do you know how fast you were going?"

"Yes, ma'am." Ford answered honestly as he showed her his driver's licence. "Twenty miles over the speed limit, going sixty-five miles per hour on a forty-five limit road."

"Mm, hm." Mustang hummed and started to write out the ticket. "Well, seeing how this is your first offense and I'm in a chipper mood today, I'll only charge you fifty percent of what I normally would."

"Thank you very much, Sh…" Ford halted his gratitude when he saw the price of the ticket. "Wait a minute, Sheriff. That ticket is for three hundred dollars!"

Mustang snapped the ticket off and held it out to the young scientist, her face as serious as death and honestly Stan wondered if Ford's heart had stopped when he saw the look the sheriff gave; Stan's was close to. "Congratulations. You can read." Mustang said coldly and Ford took the ticket.

"This price is ridiculous for twenty miles over the speed limit!" Ford said honestly.

"Oh yeah, you son of a…"

"Rose." Roosevelt said in a calm, but he continued to solve the crossword on his clipboard. He knew Mustang could handle this.

"And what are you gonna do about it?" Mustang growled like a black panther and leaned forward, with one arm on the hood of the car.

Stan swallowed and only hoped the car wouldn't get towed.

"Nothing, because I fear you more than I fear my wife - and that's saying a lot, ma'am - so I'm going to pay the ticket, probably rant about the incident to Hephzibah tonight before bed, become paranoid about speeding around this area of town for a few weeks to the point where I may just go thirty to be on the safe side, and in the end just take this whole thing, as my brother might say, up the tailpipe." Ford said in a calm, monotone voice.

Mustang's face was stone, until she let her lips curl up into a smile and she said, "You're a pretty smart guy, Pines. Maybe that'll keep you from getting killed out here." She tapped the good in farewell and she and her deputy walked off to their car.

Once they were gone, Stan threw his head down on the dashboard and stayed there for a minute or two. Ford stared at him like a confused owl. "I don't know how much more of this I can take, Sixer."

Now it was Ford's turn to grin maliciously.

* * *

Stan ended up doing dishes for a month.

* * *

 _I found that people don't like me very much when I'm honest. My brother and I are going to rebury them. I believe honesty is the best policy. Except for when it's not, which is often._

* * *

 **A/N: Okay, so we saw Blubbs back when Stan first came to Gravity Falls, and clearly he wasn't a cop yet. If I had to guess, Blubbs had just graduated high-school or was in his early twenties, only a few years younger than Stan and Ford, so who was Sheriff and Deputy back in Ford's day? Well, I've headcanonned that when Rose Mustang as ready to retire and her deputy already had, she hired a new deputy to train to be her replacement, seeing his dedication and how firm he could be. Because the people had faith in Mustang, they had faith in the guy she picked: Blubbs. So when Mustang retired, they people trusted the guy Blubbs trusted: Durland (I think Blubbs mostly hired Durland out of pity, first thinking he'd train him to be a better cop, but love got in the way of his plans.)**


	33. Ghosts

Ford and Hephzie's anniversary was approaching and Ford had no idea what to do for the celebration. Last year he was sick, their first anniversary had been a romantic evening at The Club, but years after that their evening might be spent stargazing by the Floating Cliff, or going to the movies and then going for a walk in the park, or going out for a ride on Hephzie's motorcycle and watching the sunset on the lake. Since they didn't do much last year, Ford felt like he should plan something special for this year, but his mind wouldn't let him.

At first, it had been like an annoying tick or a soft whisper, easy to ignore with other projects, but now it was like a constant scream in his ears. Ford was more determined now than ever to figure out his Grand Unified Theory of Weirdness; he even put exposing the Northwest family on hold so he could focus solely on his theory, but now that June was gone and so was the Fourth of July, his wedding anniversary was coming up and he had nothing to show for it, but as much as one part of his mind told him to think of what to do for July 10th, the other part of his mind, the louder part, was demanding that he come to a conclusion or even get one step closer to figuring his theory out.

To try to clear his head, Ford went for a walk in the woods by himself. Hephzie was at work and Ford managed to convince Stan to let him go alone. He needed some time to think. He found himself weary and with his theory still alluding him, he felt torn. He just needed to get away from it all, but how do you get away from your own thoughts?

It looked like it might rain, but the air felt dry and Ford couldn't smell the moisture. His gut told him that no rain was coming, but that didn't stop from dark clouds from masking the woods and sending a cool breeze through the warm summer's day. Ford was so lost in his thoughts that he hadn't noticed how far off into the woods he had walked. After six years of exploring he'd like to think he knew the forest well, but each time he explored he was proven wrong, and he had mixed feelings about that. Today was no exception.

In a more remote part of the woods, a majestic little cabin sat cozily among pine trees and slightly overgrown rose bushes. Ford awed at the strange home and investigated. It was half the size of the house the Corduroys had built for his family, and it looked like a house that might have been from those old books Ma liked to read to her sons when they were little, Small Home in the Big Forest. The little cabin was built with two floors, a small porch, and seemed to be quiet and cozy. From what Ford could tell, no one lived there, and so he didn't feel guilty for peeking in through the dusty windows and investigating further. The house was furanched well, but it seemed like no one had used it in years. Ford wondered if he had stumbled upon a vacation home no one used anymore. With no leads, the explorer wandered onward and speculated who the owner of the cabin might be.

About half-an-hour later, Ford could've sworn he heard whistling and the chopping of an ax. He smiled pleasantly to himself as he pushed his way past overgrown trees and he came across the Corduroy house. Boyish Dan wasn't a twelve-year-old anymore, but an adult; perhaps it was time to be rid of his nickname, but that was easier said than done. Dan had certainly grown quite a lot in the six years Ford had known him and it would be a lie to say he wasn't fond of the young lumberjack's company.

Ford emerged from the woods and waved to the young ginger as he chopped firewood. "Good afternoon, Dan!"

Boyish Dan looked up from his work and wiped his brow dry of sweat. He waved back and leaned against his right-handed ax. "Hello, Dr. Pines! Out for a walk?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I am." Ford said as he walked up to his neighbor. "How is your father doing? Is he feeling any better?"

Dan nodded. "Dad's in the house now, resting. Thanks again for the stew you sent to us. That was mighty nice of you." A few weeks ago, Manly Dave, Dan's father, had been sent to the hospital due to a heart attack, so Hephzie made sure he got the best care he could, knowing most of the doctors personally, and Stan managed to make a beef stew almost as good as Ma's to send to the Corduroys.

Ford waved the thanks away and said, "What else are neighbors for? We were happy to do it." He paused for a moment, and decided to ask the guy who might know the forest better than anyone else in Gravity Falls. "Dan, have you ever seen a small cabin in the woods in that direction?" Ford asked and pointed the way he came.

Boyish Dan let his ax fall to the grass and he paled slightly, making his red hair seem brighter, like fire. "Y-Yes, sir. My family's owned that cabin for generations."

"Really?" Ford asked and held his cleft chin as an idea came to him. His face lit up, a complete opposite to Dan's, and the polydactyl scientist asked, "What would you say to renting it to me for the weekend?"

Dan's eyes grew to the size of saucers. "Pardon me, Dr. Pines?"

"Well, you see," Ford said as he rubbed his neck. "My wedding anniversary is this weekend, and I thought it might be nice to have some time alone with my wife and away from my studies. My work has practically exploded all over the house and it would be healthy to get away from it all."

Dan shook his head and said, "That's nice of you, sir, but I can't let you stay there."

Ford let his hand down from his neck and finally started to notice how nervous the ginger looked. "Why? Does your father still use it?"

Dan shook his head again, looking more like a wet werewolf. "No, sir, no one uses it anymore, but there's a reason for that. Please! Trust me when I say you and Dr. Pines shouldn't stay in the cabin!"

Ford raised an eyebrow at Dan in an unbelieving manner. Maybe his teenage-hormones were making him panicky or something. "Dan my boy, my wife and I have faced vampires, Manotaurs, zombies, and a handful of other dangerous animals and creatures. I'm sure we will be just fine. I'm willing to pay…"

Dan shook his head once more, and held out a gloved hand in a stop position. "No, sir. No need to pay us. If you really want to stay there… hold on one minute." Dan went inside his family's home and Ford waited only a minute before he returned with an old bronze key chained with a ghost that looked like it came from a Halloween store. "Here, stay as long as you want. Just… lock yourself and Dr. Pines in the bedroom before the stroke of midnight, or risk losing your very souls!"

Ford blinked at his neighbor but then took the key with a smile and proceeded to shake the young man's hand. "Thank you very much, Dan. I truly appreciate this! I'll be back on Monday to give you the key."

Dan gave a short nod and Ford waved goodbye as he headed for home. When the eldest of the two was gone, Boyish Dan gave a heavy sigh and vexed out some worry by chopping a log slightly harder than necessary.

* * *

Hephzie, fortunate for her husband, had work on Friday, but she unguiltiedly left work on time that day rather than stay later to help, leaving at four o'clock or so. Ford had told her not to plan any event for their sixth anniversary, so she was excited to see what her husband had come up with. Ford could be very romantic when he wanted to be. Moses knows he tried so hard to make Hephzie happy. Even if he didn't succeed, just the fact that he tries so damn hard made Hephzie smile and feel so loved. No one had ever put so much effort into her before Ford.

Hephzie sped all the way home and made it home at four-thirty. She hurried inside and the first thing she heard was the TV in the living room.

 _"_ _Swaggy, will you and Sloppy quit eating the snacks and focus?! We gotta find the ghost that's been haunting this abandoned hotel!"_

 _"Derf's right, guys! Wait, has anyone seen Wilma?"_

"Goddammit they're right behind you, you fucks!"

Hephzie rolled her eyes and hung her black lever jacket up on the coat rack by the door. "What are ya watchin', Stan?"

"Beats me." Stan growled. "I was scrolling through when it looked like this was gonna be a cool horror movie but it looks like it's about a bunch of high teenagers in a hippie van trying to solve a pointless mystery!"

Hephzie entered the room and snatched the remote. She changed the channel to the weather and saw that a cold front was coming into the area, but it wouldn't start raining until Tuesday.

"Thanks." Stan muttered, having no idea why he couldn't change the channel himself. Maybe the show was just so bad that he couldn't help but watch.

"You're welcome." Hephzie tossed the remote back to her brother-in-law and it landed on his gut, causing him to make a small "oof".

The door opened and closed, and soon Ford joined the two in the living room. He grinned at his wife and kissed her in greeting. "Great! You're home! I've got a surprise for you!"

"Ya do?" Hephzie said, her heart racing like a child, anticipating to see what her husband had up his sleeve.

"Sure do!" Ford said proudly and looked at his brother. "We'll be back Monday morning."

"Have fun, ya two love birds." Stan teased and wiggled his eyebrows at the married couple.

Hephzie gave Ford a skeptical look. "What on Earth are…"

"Ah, ah!" Ford said and held up a finger. "No questions! But first," He reached into his trenchcoat and pulled out a blindfold. "I need to cover your eyes or risk spoiling the surprise."

Hephzie rolled her eyes with a grin and took the cloth. "This is payback from your birthday, isn't it?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Ford said casually. "We'll see you in three days, Stanley!" He called as he led his wife outside.

Ford gently walked Hephzie blindly through the forest, holding her hand and helping her not hit trees and other plants. Soon the ground became too difficult to walk blindly, tripping over tree roots and rocks. Ford wondered if he could've planned this better, but he got a good idea. Without warning, he let go of Hephzie's hand and picked her up bridal-style.

"Oh! Stanford!" She giggled and wrapped her arms around his neck. "I can walk just fine."

"I'm afraid nature disagrees, darling." Ford said in a low voice and kissed the bottom of her neck, making her gasp and hold him a little tighter. "Don't worry, we're almost there." Hephzie was actually very impressed with how much farther her husband carried her through the woods. Though it was hard to tell since she couldn't see, she'd guess that it was a long time until he stopped, slightly out of breath, and huffed, "We're here!" He gently put her down on her feet and turned her to face a certain direction. "Okay, Hephzie, take off your blindfold!"

Hephzie did as she was told and squinted ahead at a little cabin that Ford had led them to. Her jaw dropped and her mind went blank. It was a nice house, but why in the world did he take them here?

"Well, what do you think, Hephzibah?" Ford asked excitedly, waiting for a squeal of joy or a gasp full of awe for his cleverness.

"Ford, did ya… did ya buy another house?" Hephzie asked, a little confused.

Ford barked out a laugh, understanding why his wife lacked the reaction he had hoped for, and explained his course of actions. "No, I only rented it for the weekend. It belongs to the Corduroys. This weekend, no experiments, no anomalies or oddities, no theories of any kind. Just you, me, this secluded cabin, and rest and relaxation."

Hephze's face softened and her smile expanded, covering her whole face. "Oh, wow!"

"I've already packed and I've even dusted the whole house!" Ford went on. "It's the perfect retreat!"

Hephzie gave him a sly smile and teasingly asked, "You're seriously willin' to not do anythang work related for a whole weekend?"

Ford's smiled dropped a little and he gave an apologetic shrug. "I know I've been… distracted the last few days, but I think this will be good for us. Just some time to ourselves, and once we go back home, I will have a clear mind and may finally be able to figure out my Grand Unified Theory of Weirdness, but until then, you are the only thing I want on my mind."

Hephzie smiled and hugged her husband surprisingly tight. Ford was a bit surprised, but hugged her back. He then wondered if Hephzie loved the idea of him taking time off of work to simply be with her more than a weekend getaway. "Ford… I love ya. Thank ya so much."

Ford felt a twinge of guilt and was more than sure now that she was relieved to hear that he was taking a short break from his work, but he pushed that guilt to the side and was now even more determined to relax with his wife. He let go for a moment to carry her again, this time Hephzie not only gently wrapped her arms around his neck, but kissed him all over his face, on his cheeks, on his chin, on his forehead, on his nose, and any other inch of his skin she could reach.

Ford walked them to the door and Hephzie turned the knob for them. The door swung open with a tiny creak and Hephzie awed at the tiny home. It was old, but cozy, like a grandmother's house. It immediately opened to a big living room that took up most of the first floor, furanched with rocking chairs and a big couch that circled a wood-burning stove. A wall with a huge door led to the kitchen and dining room combo, and a set of stairs by the door led up to the bathroom and a master bedroom and a second, smaller bedroom that might have been a child's room. The house was simple, but with the dim sunlight leaking in through the windows and now that the whole house had been dusted and clean, all there was left to do was enjoy it.

Stanford walked them in, all while his wife still kissed him, and he carefully tossed her down on the couch and was on top of her, holding himself up by his hands and knees on the couch, but Hephzibah kept him close, grabbing his black tie and pulling him close, now kissing his lips. Stanford gladly returned the gesture, and he shivered pleasantly when Hephzibah unbuttoned his dress-shirt halfway and slid her hand onto his chest, tracing his skin with her fingertips with one hand and undoing his tie with her other hand. Getting the idea and following her plan, Stanford held the side of her face with his left hand and deepened their kiss.

Slowly, while Hephzibah worked to undo her husband's clothing, they both turned on the big couch comfortably and Stanford blinked when he suddenly realized that he was on the couch, lying on his back, and his wife was on top of him, still kissing him and feeling his toned chest. Hephzibah tossed the black tie aside and laid on top of him, keeping him warm like a blanket, and she opened his dress-shirt a little more to kiss his shoulders, the base of his neck, and the top half of his chest. Stanford allowed himself to moan as his wife kissed him and he ached to return the favor very soon.

Back home, Hephzibah and Stanford were always very respectful over the fact that they shared a house with Stanley and therefore had to… erm… restrict themselves when it came to their more romantic ways of affection. In return, Stanley always respected the fact that they were married and deserved a little alone time, making a point to be out of the shack all day on their anniversary or go out for a walk or turn up the TV a few volumes other nights. Stanford and Hephzibah's relationship wasn't founded on sex, but it was a nice perk to being married to say the least. All of this was another reason why Stanford pushed Boyish Dan so hard to let him use the cabin. For once, it was nice to be as loud or as intimate as they wanted without the paranoia of Stanley overhearing or having to worry about being interrupted by a gnome or a zombie.

Hephzibah paused her kisses and Stanford caught his breath. After a kiss or two softly on his lips, Hephzibah helped him out of his trenchcoat and tossed it on the floor as well. Meanwhile, Stanford swiftly kicked off his boots and let them fall off the couch. Hephzibah then resumed kissing Stanford's chest and slyly moved downward, then back up, then back down again, making sure he knew that every inch of him was treasured and loved. Stanford let out a soft hum in satisfaction and when his wife got close enough, he kissed the top of her head. Hephzibah looked up at him and he leaned forward, an elbow on the couch, and kissed her soft lips, a hand gently holding her soft chin.

Slowly, as they kissed, Stanford sat up and positioned Hephzibah so she sat in front of him, on her knees. Without separating their lips, he untied the drawstring on her red blouse and started to take the top off of his wife. She only separated when the clothing was around her neck and Stanford tried to gently pull it off of her, but it seemed to have gotten stuck thanks to her earrings and dreadlocks. Hephzibah laughed, her face covered by the article of clothing, and Stanford laughed as well. They lowered the blouse and Hephzibah took the time to take off her golden hooped earrings and let her dreadlocks down, letting the jewelry and black scrunchie fall onto the floor. Then Hephzibah slipped off her top and tossed it aside and letting it land by Stanford's trenchcoat. Catching her breath, her chest and slim frame expanding and shrinking, Hephzibah grinned at her husband as he looked at her. It didn't matter how many times now he had seen her like this or in less, Stanford still stared at her like he did on their first night, in the honeymoon suite in Scotland.

Hephzibah laughed at seeing his face and grabbed his hand and kissed it. She then held his hand so their fingers were laced loosely, and she kissed the tip of his six fingers one by one, proving once more that Hephzibah loved every part of Stanford. His stomach squirmed like he had snakes in his gut as she kissed his fingertips, or whenever she did this as a matter of fact. He used his free hand to feel her chest and slim stomach, making Hephzibah tremble, and when she looked up at him again, he made their lips meet and he slowly advanced, having Hephzibah on her back and Stanford on top of her as he kissed her and teased her by barely touching her dark skin. In between kisses Hephzibah moaned her husband's name and every time she did it was like a challenge to the young scientist. He pulled a strap of her bra off her shoulder one at a time and Hephzibah arched her back so Stanford could undo the clip that kept her breasts covered.

Outside the open door, a cowl slept in a nearby tree. A doe and her baby were grazing on grass. A snake slithered among the woods, but was soon snatched up by a hawktopus. As the anomaly too stupid to study flew towards the setting sun, as the sky turned from a baby-blue to a bright orange, littered with red and pink and yellow, as the temperature dropped a few degrees but was still warm, the happily married couple made good use out of the majestic cabin and it's remoteness.

* * *

They still needed to eat, and Ford had planned on it, but he hadn't planned on being so tired when the time came to cook. After working hard all day to prepare for the weekend getaway and then partaking in an activity he thought would be saved for late in the evening, it took everything Ford had to kiss his wife, get off the couch, and redress himself, but he didn't slip back into his dress-shirt, dress-pants, and trenchcoat. He went ahead and put on his flannel pajamas and made himself go into the kitchen to cook dinner.

Hephzie also found herself extremely tired, having had a long day of work at the hospital before Ford's surprise, so she had laid on the couch with closed eyes for a little bit and let her husband cover her naked body with a blanket when he left. Hephzie never fell asleep, instead looked around the room lazily until she found the strength to get up. A delicious scent wafted into the vast living room and Hephzie made herself get up from the couch. She had no idea what her husband did with the luggage he said he packed, so she kept the green fleece blanket around herself and ventured up to the master bedroom, where she found their suitcase at the foot of the bed. Hephzie found some black leggings, a gray t-shirt, and her light-purple silk robe and decided that it would work.

She went into the kitchen to find Ford hard at work, cooking a very nice dinner, consisting of steak, asparagus and mashed potatoes. Hephzie smiled and watched her husband cook from the doorway, leaning against it with her arms crossed, and she smile grew even bigger when she saw that the dining-room table was already set with two lit candles, rose petals, and a bottle of their favorite red wine in a bucket of ice.

After dinner, Ford opened the windows to let in the cool summer night air and lit the wood burning stove in the living room. They moved the couch a little closer to the fire and enjoyed chocolate-dipped strawberries as they chatted pleasantly about everything under the moon. Before Ford knew it, he could hear the grandfather clock chime twelve times. "Hm. Midnight." Ford observed carelessly.

Hephzie chuckled. "What, is the night owl suddenly worried 'bout how late it is?"

Ford smiled and shook his head. "No, I was just remembering something Boyish Dan told me. He said that we should be in the master bedroom by the stroke of midnight or risk losing 'our very souls'."

Hephzie raised an eyebrow, a bit surprised that her paranoid husband didn't take heed to the Corduroy's words. "N' you're not worried as to why he said that?"

Ford shrugged. "I personally think he's inhaled too much sawdust."

Hephzie chuckled and shook her head, knowing well that inhaling sawdust had no effect on one's sanity, but she let the comment go and bit into another strawberry, deciding that it would be her last one for the night.

When the clock stopped chiming, the married couple continued their conversation about what they might do for Thanksgiving this year, when they heard a small crash come from the kitchen. Ford and Hephzie both stared at the closed door that led to the kitchen and dining room and listened. It sounded like growling and small scratches were coming from the room.

Ford gave a small sigh and said, "I'll get it." He stood up and grabbed a broom that was by the front door.

Hephzie stood and followed her husband. "Sounds like a raccoon."

"I think it is." Ford said calmly and opened the door, prepared to shoo the woodland creature out of the house, but he and Hephzie stared with wide eyes and hanging jaws at what they saw.

It glowed slightly in the dark, dripping with a mixture of goo and saliva. The entire room was fill with a nauseating smell, one of a mixture of sweat and rotting milk. Hephzie actually gagged and covered her mouth, making Ford give her a concerned sideways glance, but she was fine. The intruder had a big round body, skinny noodle arms and small beady eyes, all with a large mouth with pointed teeth and a long tongue. The creature was transparent, and it attempted to eat the apples and oranges Ford had put in the fridge, but the food fell to the wooden floor soaked in goo.

"Incredible." Ford muttered under his breath. "An actual ghost."

"Now we know why Dan didn't wanna fork over the cabin." Hephzie hissed, watching the ghost move on to the cabinets and try to swallow the container of coffee grounds and a box of cereal, but once again it fell right through the spirit.

Hephzie thought she heard something small, like a distant whistle or the wind blowing through a tiny hole, so she looked down and froze when she saw her husband's back. It was about the size of an orange and pearly white, glowing slightly. It hovered a little behind Ford and had little dark eyes but a huge mouth with tiny sharp teeth that reminded Hephzie of a piranha. It seemed to be inhaling deeply through its mouth, and Hephzie couldn't be sure, but she could've sworn that a tiny trail of white dust was leaving Ford and going into the ghost's mouth.

"AH! WATCH OUT!" Hephzie yelled and smacked the ghost with the back of her hand.

Ford turned just in time to see the little ghost fly to the opposite wall and hit it, but then it zoomed to Hephzie and missed her hands by flying to the back of her neck, and it opened it's big mouth and started to inhale. Ford yelled, getting an idea of what it was trying to do, and he swatted with his broom, away from his wife, and pounded it against the dining room table, squishing it under his six-fingered fist. When he removed it, both his fist and the table were stained with a strange greenish-whitish goo.

"What was that?!" Hephzie yelled.

"I don't know." Ford said as he shook the goo off of his hand and started to walk his wife out of the room with the broom in his hand. "Maybe we should go to bed…" They froze when they heard a crash of glass. "What is it now?" Ford huffed in frustration and opened the door back to the living room.

Ford held his broom a little tighter when he saw yet another ghost haunting the house. This one looked like he was about their nephew's age and size, but he didn't have legs, rather a ghostly tail, and a cute little hat and big eyes and cheeks. He made the humans' empty wine glasses and an antique statue of an angel juggle without him ever touching them, and when he saw the two adults, his big eyes got even bigger and he let the items fall to the floor with a crash, breaking them.

The little ghost floated up to them, ignoring their shocked faces, and said in a cherry voice, "Hello! I'm Jasper! Do you want to be my new best friends?! Do you want to go on g-rated adventures with me?! What's your favorite color?! Mine's all of them! They're so pretty! What's your names?! _Can I keep you?_ " He added in a horrifying whisper that didn't fit the rest of his sweetly asked questions.

Hephzie smiled kindly and opened her mouth to answer, but Ford dropped the broom and covered Hephzie's mouth quickly and ignored her angry muffles.

"Hephzibah, darling, trust me," Ford hissed. "Just ignore… ugh!" He withdrew his hand and wiped it on his pants. "Did you just _lick_ my hand?" He asked, a little unsure as to why he didn't see that coming.

Before Hephzie could answer, two more ghosts appeared with a pop by the couch. They didn't look as bad as the ones in the kitchens, but they weren't as cute as the ghost that was trying to get the adults' attention. One wore a black leather jacket and had a little tuft of ghost hair up like a greaser while the shorter, chubbier one had a flat cap.

The short one rubbed his fist into his other hand and snarled in a high Chicago accent, "Well, well, well, if it isn't the little pipsqueak."

Jasper seemed to pale a little, which says a lot considering how pale he already was, and he squealed, "Oh no, not you guys!"

"C'mere, you little…"

The two ghosts started to chase Jasper around in circles in the living room while the friendly ghost squealed for his afterlife, giving Ford and Hephzie the chance to slowly back towards the stairs and then race up them. Hephzie slammed the master bedroom door closed and locked it, even if it probably wouldn't stop spirits from entering the room, but it was worth a shot.

"Ford, next time the local lumberjack tells ya not to use a certain cabin, LISTEN TO HIM!" Hephzie yelled to vex out some fears while he went through their luggage to try to find something.

"My dear, it's actually a good thing that Dan let us rent this cabin." Ford argued calmly as he threw his Journal #3 on the king-sized bed and continued to dig around their luggage.

"Okay, how did ya figure that out?" Hephzie asked, her arms crossed over her chest as she gave her husband's back a skeptical look.

"Because by sunrise this house will be ghost free." Ford answered and stood up with a pen and some candles he was planning to use to set a romantic setting, but he had other plans. "We're going to have to perform a seance. I don't know much about ghosts, but I do know that they usually haunt for a reason. Ghosts are nothing more than restless spirits looking for someone to put them to rest." The young scientist picked up his journal and began to record in it.

"So, what?" Hephzie asked as he helped her husband out by taking the candles. "If we can figure out why those ghosts were hauntin' the cabin, we could stop 'em?"

"That's the idea, yes." Ford said quickly as he wrote his thoughts down in his journal and led the way back downstairs. "Come on! We need to act quickly."

"Yeah, the sooner we get rid of these ghosts the sooner we can get to bed." Hephzie teased as she yawned into her hand.

Ford had Hephzie sit the three candles on the coffee table and light them. The living room was empty of ghosts for now, but it sounded like the two pranking ghosts were chasing Jasper around the dining room table. Once Ford finished writing in his journal, he closed it and laid it on the rug by his feet as he stood on one end on the coffee table and his wife on the other. They got on their knees and held hands across the table.

"Don't we need a third person n' possibly a psychic?" Hephzie asked.

"Trust me, this place is haunted enough without the need of a psychic to talk to the spirits." Ford squeezed his wife's hands and gave her a reassuring smile. "Just let me do the talking."

Hephzie rolled her eyes and decided to let the paranormal expert handle things if it would make him feel better about the fact that he brought this upon themselves.

"Spirits," Ford said in a loud, authoritative voice. "Why do you haunt us?"

Nothing happened. The two humans listened carefully for any sign of ghosts, but even the pranksters and Jasper were unheard.

"Spirits, what is your reasoning for…"

 **BAM!** It was a real monster mash in the cabin! On reflex, Ford ran to his wife and held her close. A plate flew over their heads and crashed into a wall and three ghosts who looked like high-school bikers threw around breakables like balls. Keys and locks floated in the air, bypassing each other as they moaned mournfully. Children-like ghosts scampered by their feet and chased each other, played jump-rope with their ghostly tails, and young-adult ghosts wrapped in leather were hitting each other violently with ghostly hammers.

"Any more bright ideas?" Hephzie asked sarcastically, getting a little tired of being in the midst of a Ghost Harassers episode and also just tired in general. She should've taken that nap while she had the chance.

Ford got himself and Hephzie off their knees. "Let's… let's try to get some sleep. If we can just make it to sunrise…"

The master bedroom was the only place that didn't seemed infested with ghosts. Ford wondered if there was some sort of spell in the walls. Hephzie slipped into the left side of the bed and laid on her back, her arm draped over her eyes.

Ford sighed and sat next to her. "I'm sorry. I should have listened to Boyish Dan. I just wanted to do something special for our anniversary, but we'll figure it out together."

Hephzie removed her arm from over her eyes and smiled up at her husband. She let her left hand lay on the bed palm-up. Ford grasped it and gave it a gentle squeeze. "I know we will." Hephzie said. "N' don't worry 'bout it. To be perfectly honest, I'd've been happy if we had spent our anniversary by havin' a water-gun war out in the yard."

Ford laughed. "I'll try to remember that for next year."

"N' hey, for what it's worth, we had a nice time together before it turned into a horror show in here."

"We did." Ford nodded in agreement and bent down to give his wife a long, deep kiss.

Hephzie fell asleep relatively quickly while Ford laid awake. Hephzie had fallen asleep with his right arm around her and her head was on his shoulder. He tried to sleep, even had his glasses off, but it was hard to with the commotion downstairs and the million of ideas that plagued his mind. A part of him wanted to investigate further on the whole ghost matter and study every spirit, but he had promised not to study any anomalies while out on their romantic getaway. Well, he kind of broke that promise already when he tried to banish the ghosts in the first place and he planned to take care of the situation at some point as a favor to the Corduroys, but for now Ford found he couldn't leave his wife's side, far too comfortable; even if his mind wouldn't let him sleep, at least he could enjoy Hephzie's company.

Ford closed his eyes and allowed his thoughts to take him away, until he realized how much hotter he was getting under Hephzie's touch. Maybe he could slowly free his arm and turn over. Ford opened his eyes, but even if his vision was blurred slightly he could still see that Hephzie wasn't sleeping soundly; he wasn't completely blind. Hephzie wore a scared expression on her face and she was sweating a little on her forehead and neck. She was having a nightmare. Before Ford could intervene, her eyes flew open and she breathed heavily where she laid. She blinked tears out of her eyes and it took a minute for her vision to focus.

"Hephzibah, darling, what's the matter?" Ford asked tenderly, remembering all those times she comforted him when he had a nightmare; now it was time to return the favor.

"Nothin'." Hephzie breathed and swallowed. "Bad dream."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Ford asked.

Already Hephzie was back to normal. She closed her eyes and said, "It was… actually, it was a little stupid to be honest. It wasn't even that scary."

Ford nodded, even if his wife couldn't see it. He knew that sometimes dreams were a lot scarier when you were in them, but then once you wake up you often asked yourself why you were so scared to begin with. "What were you dreaming about?"

"At first, I was swimmin' back at Glass Shard Beach. I was in my red bathin' suit n' everythang, but I was alone. I was away from the shore. Waves started pourin' over me, then seaweed wrapped around my ankle n' pulled me down. I saw a skeleton half-buried in the sand. I swam to the skeleton to try to see who's it was or somethang, but before I could touch it, it grabbed my wrist. That's when it got scary. But it wasn't a skeleton's hand anymore! It was a hand with kitchen stuff for fingers; a peeler, a knife, a spoon, a fork, that kind of stuff. The skeleton wasn't a skeleton anymore, but it had wrinkly skin, an eyepatch, a fedora, n' it yelled in a voice that shook the ocean, 'Always helpin' a drownin' man, eh?!' N' then I woke up."

"Hm. The human brain is the most complicated thing nature has ever created. It is bound to create abnormal dreams with fragments of our lives crammed together." Ford said in a voice that may have come off wise if he wasn't trying too hard to sound smart.

"I guess." Hephzie said, not sounding bothered at all by the dream, and she soon fell asleep again in Ford's one-armed hold.

Ford fell asleep, but he also found himself soon awake by a nightmare. Like Hephzie, he was fine after catching his breath, but not even a full minute after he woke up, she woke up, too, having felt him wake up.

"A nightmare?" Hephzie asked as she sat up.

"Yes." Ford answered as he rubbed his eyes. "Hephzie, that... that man you saw... I think he was in my dream, too?"

"Are ya sure?"

"He interrupted my usual nightmare with a stupid pun." Ford said, still a little short of breath. The dream was a reassuring nightmare of his since he was a child; kids making fun of his six-fingered hand while it grows far too big and nearly crushes him.

Hephzie, noticing her husband's fast breathing, felt his heartbeat by putting a hand over his chest. She slowly slipped her hand under his shirt to be even closer to the important organ and she observed, "Hm. You're worse off than I was."

Ford watched Hephzie for a moment. Her eyes were unfocused as she felt his heart beating against his chest, and he could feel it growing slower under his wife's touch. The moonlight seeping in from their little window illuminated her beauty, even if Ford's vision was a little blurred right now. He smiled and gently took the hand that was over his chest, brought it up to his lips, and kissed it. "Don't worry. I'll be fine."

The two soon fell asleep, but were both woken up by nightmares. If one didn't have a nightmare, they'd be woken up by their spouse waking up. The ghosts were also loud down on the first floor and soon the two gave up sleeping as a whole, with Ford writing in his journal and Hephzie rereading _To Kill A Mockingbird_ , one of her favorite books. When the sun rose, the married humans stopped and listened when it seemed a little quiet in the cabin. They both slowly went down the stairs and were amazed to find that the house was back to normal, looking exactly the way it looked before the haunting of the ghosts.

Ford and Hephzie gave each other one look and ran upstairs to try to get some sleep.

* * *

Stan enjoyed having the house to himself all weekend. Not that he did much aside from being lazy, which was exactly how he wanted to spend his weekend. He was munching on toffee peanuts, wearing nothing but boxers on the couch, as he watched a horror movie Ford would have puked five minutes into, when the door was thrown open and closed with two loud bangs.

Stan turned off the TV, jumped up, and ran to check the door; he was grateful not to see an anomaly that had come to attack him but he was still shocked that Ford and Hephzie were back on Saturday night rather than Monday morning. Not only that, but they were both in their pajamas, Hephzie dropped their shared suitcase with a loud flop, and Ford had his journal held by his pounding chest. They both leaned against the wall, looking pale and tired with bags under their eyes and their breathing heavy.

"What happened to you two?" Stan asked. "And why are you back so soon?"

"Ask your brother." Hephzie huffed irritably as she jammed a thumb over in her husband's direction.

Ford rubbed his neck sheepishly and said, "I may or may not have accidentally rented a haunted cabin…"

"No, ya deliberately ignored Dan's warnin's until it was too late!" Hephzie snapped, clearly blaming her husband for the sleepless nights and nearly losing their souls.

Ford was also incredibly irritated, but he knew that she had a right to blame her, but that didn't mean he wasn't still angry. "Well, he should've been more persistent or have told me the cabin was haunted!"

"Please, have ya ever tried to tell a Pines 'no'?! He could've told ya the devil himself was in that house n' ya'd still wanna go!"

Ford opened his mouth to argue back, but Stan stepped forward and held his hands up. "Alright, alright. Look, you two look like you've been beaten by the ugly stick, so go get some shut eye and you two can fight some more when your heads are back on your shoulders." Normally he wouldn't intervene when it came to the married couple's arguments, but if they were going to fight they should do it when they both had a good night's sleep.

Hephzie picked up the suitcase and marched off for their bedroom without another word. Ford left the hall as well, but did not go into the master bedroom. Instead he went into the thinking parlor to properly catalog the ten levels of ghosts in his journal and record his experiences with them.

When Stan headed to bed later that night, he passed the thinking parlor and saw a bit of light coming from the cracked door. The younger twin was so very tempted to go in there and force his brother's sorry ass to bed, but maybe it was best to just let it slide, seeing how his wedding anniversary had turned into a real fiasco and it was likely that Ford wanted to be alone in the parlor, so Stan sighed to himself and went to bed.

* * *

Boyish Dan and his father ended up not going to church that morning; Dave wasn't feeling great, so after Dan made sure his surviving parent was taken care of, he decided he needed some fresh air and he sat on his front porch and rocked on the swing slowly, already getting a little hot in the summer sun. Dan even pulled his hat over his eyes to shield them from the light and he could feel himself being pulled into a nice nap, when suddenly a soft voice called his name.

"Dan! Dan!"

The young lumberjack lifted the hat off of his eyes lazily but perked up like a flower that had just been watered when he saw Dr. Pines coming up to the house. Dr. Pines looked really tired and a little grumpy if one was honest, but he was alive, and that's all that mattered to Dan.

"Oh, praise Paul Bunyan!" He cheered as he stood up and leaned against the railing of his porch to talk to his neighbor. "You're alive!"

Dr. Pines rubbed his neck and looked away while his face grew a little pink. "Yes, I… I came to apologize. You were right to tell me not go into that cabin. I should have listened to you."

Dan's smile dropped a little and he waved away the apology. "Hey, c'mon now, Dr. Pines. No need to be sorry. I'm just glad you're okay. How's Dr. Pines?"

"She's fine. She's asleep." Ford said as he fished around a pocket of his trenchcoat and pulled out the key to the haunted cabin. "I also came to return this."

"Oh, thank you, sir." Boyish Dan replied as he took the key back and pocketed it in his overalls. He gave his neighbor another careful and saw that he looked… well, he looked like the entire world was on his shoulders. Dan could relate to that feeling. As Dr. Pines opened his mouth to speak, Dan beat him to the punch. "You know, you're welcome to pull up some rocking chair and relax if you want."

Dr. Pines gave him a thoughtful look, but ended up holding up a six-fingered hand and smiling politely. "No thank you, Dan. I haven't slept well recently so I think I'll try to take a nap."

Boyish Dan nodded, not entirely sure how much truth was in that statement, but he would never accuse his neighbor of lying and, quite frankly, it was none of his business, so he said, "Yes, sir, I understand. You take care of yourself, Dr. Pines."

"Thank you, Dan. You do the same." Dr. Pines started to leave and Dan watched him head for the woods, about to walk on a path that had been made by walking the same way for so long, but he stopped a few feet away and called back to the young lumberjack, "And, please, call me 'Ford', alright?"

Dan was a little thrown off by this, but grinned and waved his neighbor goodbye. "You got it, Ford! Have a good Sunday!"


	34. Ideas

Ford stayed awake all night, sipping coffee as he wrote in his beloved journal and ranted to the pages about his lack of evidence for his Grand Unified Theory of Weirdness. After filling a few pages with the ten different categories of ghosts and explaining his own experiences with each type of spirit, he hazily drew dark shadows of nearly every anomaly he had encountered over the last six years with arrows pointing to a big red question mark; the two pages didn't look that different from the giant question mark that haunted him before he met his Muse.

When the sun rose, Ford sighed to himself, as he reread the questions that plagued him:

* * *

 ** _What does it mean?! What is the Unified Theory of Weirdness?_**

* * *

Knowing he wouldn't get anywhere with so little energy but well aware that his active mind wouldn't let him sleep, the young scientist left the thinking parlor for another cup of coffee. It being only seven in the morning, he was the only one awake. Ford made a whole pot of coffee for the adults and pleasantly sipped his beverage as he read the newspaper, a habit usually occupied by Stan, but that didn't mean Ford didn't like to read the local paper, as well.

Stan walked into the kitchen like a zombie a little before nine o'clock and yawned into the palm of his hand. "Sixer, did you sleep at all last night?" He asked once he saw how tired his brother looked.

"No." Ford said in an unshameful tone.

Stan groaned as he got down a white mug and poured himself some joe. "Ya know, for a guy with twelve PhDs, you're a real idiot."

Ford rolled his eyes and held the newspaper up higher to block his twin from view.

Hephzie ended up sleeping in until noon, while Ford tried to get some work done in the thinking parlor. While, normally, she would try to coax her husband into getting some sleep, she was still annoyed with him and decided to let him suffer from his own bad decisions. Stan occupied himself with laundry and made up his mind that if Ford wasn't asleep by midnight that night he was going to knock him out boxing-style. Thankfully it didn't get to that point; Ford accidentally fell asleep on top of his journal early in the afternoon.

* * *

 _Stanford opened his eyes and smiled at the familiar scene before him. Bill's eye wrinkled in a mouthless smile, a game of chess between them to give them something to do while they talked, and the usual cups of tea floating by their heads._

 _"It's good to see you, Sixer." Bill greeted and moved his white pawn ahead two spaces. He was always white; in the past Bill had said, "Have to give you a challenge, Smart Guy."_

 _"It's good to see you, too, Bill." Stanford returned and moved his black pawn ahead only one space. The last time they had spoken was haphazard, quick, and in the midst of a sea of panic. The mindscape had trembled with Stanford's worries over his wife's health as he requested Bill's help in finding a cure for zombification. Now the mindscape was a calm sea of endless stars. Remembering the last time they had spoken and how irritated Bill seemed by his urgency, Stanford added, "I want to thank you again for helping me. If it wasn't for you, I may have lost Hephzibah forever."_

 _"Hey, don't sweat it." Bill said as he moved another pawn and he grabbed his cup of tea, one hand holding the cup and the other holding the saucer. "What else are friends for?"_

 _Stanford felt a bit of heat rise up in his cheeks and so he ducked his head and moved another piece in the game, meanwhile Bill sipped his drink with his eye, his eyelid pursed like lips. Stanford's instinct told him to cringe, but if that's how Bill had to drink then that's how Bill had to drink. Who was Stanford to judge?_

 _"So, having trouble with your Grand Unified Theory of Weirdness?" Bill asked casually, knowing what the answer was already, and he let his cup of tea float by his head. With a motion of his hand, he moved a knight._

 _Stanford sighed and rested his head on his fist, lightly squishing his cheek, with his elbow on the arm of his chair, and he used his free hand to make his next move. "Yes. Six years and three journal later and I'm no closer than when I began." He answered, somewhat repeating himself from what he had written in Journal 3. "I know there's something that connects all of the anomalies together, but…" Stanford trailed off and rubbed his forehead._

 _"No, you're right, Sixer," Bill said and he readjusted his bowtie before moving his knight again. "But what if you've been looking for the wrong commonality?"_

 _Stanford raised his head to look at his Muse. "Do you mean, I should expand my research to much more than any common behavior?"_

 _"You're getting there." Bill answered and held his hands, fingers interlocked, by his triangular body, his elbows on the arms of his seat. "What if I told you that the commonality isn't the behavior, but the history?"_

 _Stanford's eyes widened. He felt that old adrenaline pumping through his veins, just like it used to back when he first saw his car being taken by Steve, just like when he used to find a new anomaly, just like when he seemed to be taking a step closer to his endgame, but now it was more powerful than ever before._

 _Bill also smiled, most likely from seeing the human so excited about the proposal of information, and the conversation went onward._

* * *

Hephzie sighed to herself with a hand on the door handle. She wasn't mad at Ford anymore, but she was still a bit on edge with him, but she knew she had to let it go. Sure, Ford should have listened to Boyish Dan and not have rented that cabin for their wedding anniversary, but like Grandpa used to say, all's well that ends well. No one was hurt, everyone was home and safe, and before the ghosts had appeared the couple did have a nice time.

It was ten o'clock at night, so Hephzie expected to find her husband awake at the desk of the thinking parlor. She was both pleasantly surprised and annoyed when she opened the door and found Ford lying his head on his desk, his arms crossed and working as a pillow, and his glasses and face smudged into his limbs while he snored peacefully. Hephzie smiled; it had been a long time since she had seen him sleep so soundly.

Hephzie quietly walked into the thinking parlor and debated if she should wake him up and get him to sleep in bed in order to avoid an ache in his neck or if she should let him sleep. There was a good chance that if he woke up he'd jump back to work rather than sleep through the night. Ford didn't stir when she approached in her light-purple silk nightgown, or when she ran a hand over his fluffy brown hair. Hephzie then grabbed the spare blanket that hung off the side of the velvet couch, lightly covered Ford with it, kissed his cheek, removed his glasses from his eyes and folded them on the desk, and left him alone to dream.

* * *

Stan and Hephzie both double-checked the clock when they heard Ford's footsteps from the hall. They were sitting in front of sandwiches in the kitchen and the small clock over the door frame told them that it was almost two o'clock in the afternoon. Sweet Lord, Ford had almost been asleep for a whole twenty-four hours! Stan and Hephzie managed to exchange quick looks of pure shock before looking at Ford as he entered the room. He smiled brighter than the sun, a big ball of renewed energy, and he was freshly showered and dressed.

Ford kissed his wife's cheek and lightly punched his brother's shoulder in greeting. "Good afternoon! Beautiful day!"

"Alright, who are you and what have you done with Stanford Pines?" Stan asked with a bark of a laugh.

Ford rolled his eyes, his smile still on, and he turned on the coffee pot to feed his caffeine addiction.

"I take it ya slept well?" Hephzie safely guessed.

"Better than I had in a long time! I even had a sudden wave of inspiration for my Grand Unified Theory of Weirdness!"

Hephzie allowed her smile to split into a proud grin. "Ya did? That's great!"

"Hey, good job, Poindexter!" Stan congratulated. "See, a little shut-eye is actually good for you!" He added with a I-was-right-you-were-wrong tone.

"Thank you." Ford said to both of the young adults and turned to get the coffee grounds and the lennens for the machine out of the cabinet. "This whole time I've been focused on the behaviors that unifies the obbities, but what if what unifies them is the history?!"

"History? Like, their origins?" Hephzie clarified.

Ford turned his head to give her a smile and a nod. "Yes! But what if that history exists beyond our world, in another realm, or a dimension of weirdness?!" He asked, his brown eyes twinkling with excitement as he led his family on to his newest idea.

Stan and Hephzie stared at Ford, unsure of what to make of this. "Are you serious, Ford?" Stan asked his twin.

"As the plague, Stanley. You've heard of the multidimensional theory, right?"

"I'm not an idiot, I know all about how some people think there are different dimensions and realities or what-not out there." Stan said as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"There's no proof that it doesn't exist," Hephzie added into the conversation. "But there's no way to prove that it does exist unless…"

"Unless you literally went there, yeah I know." Stan interrupted and Hephzie nodded to show that he was correct. "So, where are you going with this, Sixer?"

Ford continued to grin at his wife and his brother. "Well, if there is a dimension of weirdness, what if it was leaking into ours?! What if the various different creations all came from their own dimension and came into ours, hence why they are so unnatural?!"

Hephzie's eyes widened when she heard this wave of information. "If it's true…"

"Then I'll have my Grand Unified Theory of Weirdness!" Ford cheered and resumed making his coffee as he further explained. "If I can find the weak spot or even prove the dimension's existence, I'll have my theory and join the ranks of Einstein and Tesla!"

Stan stood up, wearing a grin almost as big as his brother's. "You do realize that you'd also be proving that the multidimensional theory is true, too, right? This would be the biggest discovery the world has ever seen!"

"But, wait," Hephzie interrupted, not wanting the boys to lose their heads in the excitement. "How would you prove the dimension's existence?"

Stan and Ford looked at her and said the exact same thing at the exact same time with the exact same line of thought. "With a portal!"

It was Sunday. Fiddleford was enjoying the cool air the garage gave as long as he kept the door cracked and the fan on. He had been working on his personal computer, his pet project, what would really get Fiddleford Computer Magigs off the ground, when he needed some inspiration and his hands were itching for his instrument, so he pulled his banjo up on his lap and graced the house with his music. He knew he shouldn't be working on Sunday to begin with, but he had an urge to get to work and he had had inspiration in his fist, until it slipped away like a bar of soap. Sometimes that's how inspiration worked; the tighter you hold on, the faster it slips away.

The phone rang, halting the music, and Fiddleford it picked up and set his banjo to the side. "Hello? Fiddleford Computer Magigs? Ya say you're tryin' to build a transuniversal polydimensional metavortex? Well that's mathematically _feasible!_ I reckon." And he moved his head away from the communication device to spit.

Fiddleford could've sworn he heard a chuckle coming from the other line, and when he pressed his ear up against the phone, he heard Ford say, " _You haven't changed a bit, have you, buddy?_ "

Fiddleford returned the chuckle and said proudly, "Nope."

 **CRASH!** Fiddleford jumped badly and his knee was bouncing rapidly as his anxiety spiked. He heard what sounded like the banging of a metal trashcan on concrete, the meowing of a cat, and his son's voice.

"Hold on, Stanford, I gotta go beat the livin' daylights outta my son." Fiddleford moaned and put the phone down on the table; he could've sworn he could hear Ford laughing on the other line, but decided to ignore it. Fiddleford lifted the garage door up and saw Tater McGucket running around the suburban street after a crabby old orange tabby cat. "TATER!" Fiddleford yelled. "WHAT ARE YA DOIN' T'MS. NANCY'S POOR KITTY?!"

"I just wanted t'play with her, Daddy!" Tate yelled back as he chased after the cat and nearly snatched the cat up, but Apple jumped out of the way and climbed a tree.

Another door banged open, belonging to Mr. Derald Arrowhead, and he yelled, "McGucket, can't you control that little troublemaker?!"

"He meant nothin' by it, Mr. Arrowhead." Fiddleford called over. "He was just playin' n' got outta hand, but he will pick up your trashcans n' he will apologize." He added sternly and eyed his energetic boy, who shuffled his feet and moved slowly to the mess he had made.

Fiddleford's wife, Madeline, appeared at the front door with a wooden spoon in her hand and yelled, "Did that old fleabag scratch my son?!"

Fiddleford rolled his eyes. "No, Madeline, Apple didn't touch a hair on Tate's head! N' if she did, it's the boy's own fault for messin' with a cat that should be left alone!"

"Well, send a Mama to Hell for worryin' over her baby!" Madeline huffed and slapped her spoon into her opposite hand without a flinch. She saw Mr. Arrowhead and sweetened her expression and tone. "Good afternoon, Mr. Arrowhead. Lovely petunias your wife has grown this year."

"Thank you, Mrs. McGucket." Mr. Arrowhead replied. "I'll be sure to pass the message along." And he closed the door to go back to watching football.

Madeline glared at her son as he picked up the trash he had spilt on the curb and said, "Now, Tate, ya behave or I'll make your butt redder than a tomato, ya hear?"

"Yes, Mama."

Madeline nodded firmly and shut the door to resume working on supper.

Fiddleford left the garage door open to keep an eye on his son and he picked up the phone and collapsed into his chair. "Ya still there, Stanford?"

" _Yes,_ " Ford chuckled. " _That boy seems to be keeping you and Madeline busy._ "

"Ya have no idea." Fiddleford said as he rested an arm over his eyes and leaned back in his seat to try to relax a little bit.

" _Are you sure you want to take on this project, Fiddleford? It sounds like you've got your hands full._ "

Fiddleford let his arm down and he smiled proudly. "Hey, my hands are never too full t'help a friend!" His knee had stopped bouncing and he spent a good hour or so catching up with his old college buddy and spitballing ideas for the portal.

* * *

Madeline was almost finished with dinner when Fiddleford got off the phone. On the way to the kitchen, he passed the living room, where his son was lying on his stomach in front of the TV, his hat over his eyes and a small smile on his face as he watched puppets teaching him about sharing. Fiddleford took the time to enter the room, ruffle his hat, and chuckle at his son as the four-year-old boy giggled and swatted his father's hand away, then Fiddleford continued on his merry way to the kitchen.

Madeline looked up from her work by the stove and smiled when she saw her husband. "Who was that on the phone?" She asked as she continued to smash the potatoes.

"That was Stanford." Fiddleford said with joy in his voice.

Madeline looked at him and smiled. They hadn't heard from the Pines since the twins' birthday when Fiddleford called his old roommate that evening. "Really? How's he?"

"Oh, he's fine. More than fine. Ya remember they're up in Gravity Falls t'prove his unified theory?" When Madeline nodded, he added, "Well, he thinks the commonality's the history, that all the weird critters came from a dimension o'weirdness."

Most people would call Stanford crazy or simply stare in disbelief, but not the McGuckets. Madeline nodded with a smile and said, "That makes sense, but how does he know for sure?"

"He doesn't." Fiddleford explained. "That's why he needs my help t'prove it does exist n' that his theory's correct."

Madeline turned to look at her husband and now she appeared shocked. "He needs your help? With what exactly?"

Fiddleford grinned like a child on Christmas morning. "With a portal! With Stanford's PhDs, my mathematics, n' Stanley's strengths, we have a sure fire way of buildin' a transuniversal polydimensional metavortex, an interdimensional portal!"

"Fiddleford!" Madeline gasped and her eyes sparkled and her cheeks swelled from her smile. "That sounds amazin'! That's incredible! I know y'all can do it!"

"Thank you, sweetheart." Fiddleford said and rubbed his arm as he looked away and his smile decreased. "Course, I haven't said yes yet."

"Why not?" Knowing her husband, Madeline would assume that Fiddleford would jump to the opportunity to work with his good friend on an invention that would change science as they knew it.

"Cuz, if I agree to do this, I'd have t'leave ya n' Tate for awhile." Fiddleford said sadly. He loved his family; he loved his wife and son so much. He loved being married and he loved being a father, but he really did think this was important and that he should take on the project his friend had proposed to him.

Madeline's smile dropped, following Fiddleford's train of thought. "Oh." She turned back to supper and stirred the potatoes while adding salt and pepper. "Oh." She couldn't think of anything else to say, her brain too busy thinking to communicate properly.

Fiddleford's knee started to bounce a little. "Look, I… I know it won't be easy, n' I'm so sorry 'bout that, n' I know Tate's a handful, but I... I think that I should go. I won't be gone for long, I'll come home as often as I can n' call every night. I just… I really think I should go."

"Ya do?" Madeline asked and she turned off the timer that was thirteen second away from going off. She didn't sound mad or sad, she was just asking for her husband's reasoning. She had always been willing to hear the reason behind someone's actions or choices. "Why?" She asked as she slipped on her red oven mitts and opened the oven for the meatloaf.

"I know it's not a personal computer, but a portal t'another location alone is a huge technological achievement. We'd be turnin' science-fiction into science-fact! N'... n'..." Fiddleford rubbed the back of his hand and looked at his wife's beautiful curls with a pleading look. "N' Stanford's my friend, n' I wanna help him if I can."

Madeline didn't say a word. Too much was still going on inside her head for her to talk. She put the meatloaf on top of the oven and closed the little metal door. She turned off the oven as the delicious smell filled the room. Fiddleford admired it and it eased his anxiety a little, but not enough to completely get rid of the bubbling in his gut as he waited for Madeline's approval. He wanted to make this decision as a family.

"Maybe…"

Fiddleford perked up. His wife's voice had been so quiet, so timid, hardly a whisper, that the young engineer almost missed it. "What'd ya say, Maddie?"

Madeline brushed the special sauce on top of the loaf made out of ground beef while the gears turned in her head and said in a clear voice, "Well, I wonder… maybe we should move."

Fiddleford's eyes widened with surprise. A pleasant, bold, unexpected surprise, nonetheless. "Move? Like… like t'Gravity Falls?"

Madeline turned back to her husband. "Well… yeah. Oh, will ya fix drinks?" She added and Fiddleford nodded before turning to the cabinet and getting the glasses and a plastic cup for Tate. "I'm just thinkin' n'... well, Palo Alto is nice n' all, but it's not like the small towns we grew up in, where everybody knows everybody n' it's safe t'walk 'round n'... this place, it feels like a… it feels like a house, not a home… ya know what I mean?"

Fiddleford looked at his wife as he opened the fridge and pulled out the pitcher of sweet tea. "I think I do. I think it'd be nice t'be back in a small town like that again."

"N' with Tate startin' school next Fall, now's the perfect time t'move." Madeline pointed out as she stirred the pot of green beans that were nearly done cooking. "N' we wouldn't be too far from Portland, where ya could get your company off the ground, n' we'd be close t'good friends, n'..."

"I think you're right." Fiddleford said as he poured the drinks, both adults having a smile on their face. "I think we should move. We've visited Gravity Falls before n' I don't know 'bout ya, but I felt at home there."

"Me, too." Madeline said with a nod and poked her head out of the kitchen. "Tater, dinner! Wash up!"

"Yes, Mama!" Tate's little voice called back and he turned off the TV.

"So, we're really gonna do it?" Madeline asked. "We're really gonna move?"

"Yeah." Fiddleford said as he sat the drinks of sweet tea on the table and started to fix his son water; he was too young for such a sweet drink so close to bedtime. "I know it's risky, but my papa always used to say 'what's life without a little risk' n' I stand by that."

Madeline nodded as she reached for a plate and started to fix it for her son. "I agree. I guess ya better call Ford back n' tell him the good news."

"What good news?" Tate asked as he walked into the dining area and hopped up on his chair. "Are we gettin' a dog? Are ya finally gettin' me a dog?"

Fiddleford chuckled; the boy had been wanting a dog for awhile now. "No, son, but hey. How would ya like t'see your Uncle Ford, Uncle Stan, n' Auntie Hephzie more often?"

* * *

The day after Stanford had called Fiddleford about the portal, the phone rang as the three adults ate Stan-cakes. Hephzibah and Stanley watched as the scientist in the family got up and picked up the phone that hung in the hall.

"Hello, this is Stanford Pines. You're moving?! That's… that's great!"

Stanley and Hephzibah exchanged grins over the table before the young nurse asked her brother-in-law to pass the syrup.


	35. How

Tate was the only kid Stan ever knew to eat all of his vegetables with a smile. (Stan always snuck his vegetables on Shermie's plate, and when he moved out Stan just hid the unwanted food under his napkin. Ford's tactic had always been to eat the vegetables first and eat them quickly, and then to gulp down half of his water to drain out the taste.) But then, when Stan first tasted the collard greens Maddie had made, he understood completely and happily ate his own serving of the vegetable.

The McGuckets were currently moving up to Gravity Falls, having found a nice little house in a friendly neighborhood and were in the midst of moving their things into their new home. They had taken a break from work to have dinner with the Pines at their cabin in the middle of the woods, and to distract herself from the stressful hassle of moving and to thank the Pines family for their help, Maddie had cooked. Tonight, the five adults and the four-year-old boy feasted on homemade biscuits, collard greens, and ham. The ham was some of the best meat Stan had ever eaten in his entire life and the biscuits tasted like clouds from Heaven, so fluffy and buttery and steaming without burning the roof of his mouth. He happily munched on his third biscuit as Maddie told a story that took place last Father's Day.

"So we're sittin' at church, Tate's in Sunday School, n' Fidds n' I are sittin' in the pews for service. Well, for Father's Day the pastor decides t'let kids who wanna stand up in front of the church n' talk 'bout their fathers. Kids from 'bout nine t'thirteen are gettin' up there, some makin' grown men cry n' others makin' 'em blush tomato-red. Then this one little girl gets up there n' the whole room sorta takes in a deep breath n' holds it. Sweet little thang, 'cept she's got a big mouth n' is always sayin' the kind of stuff that makes us laugh n' grateful that we're not her parents."

Maddie pauses for a minute to wipe her lips free of honey from her biscuit and Fiddleford his shaking his head and smiling, knowing how the story ends. Hephzie is already giggling over how her friend is telling the story and the twins are a little too busy enjoying dinner to really react, but they are smiling and listening closely nonetheless. Tate watched the adults as he eats quietly, entertained and feeling special being surrounded by grown-ups..

"So she gets up, little buttercup named Rachel, n' she says, 'My father's the best father in the whole wide world cuz he always lets me sit in his lap n' he takes me out t'ice cream n' he makes cookies with me n' he even lets me lick the spoon!'" Maddie narrated in a slightly higher voice. "'He's even better than my mother, cuz he's not just a father, he's a motherfather!'"

Ford choked on his glass of water and Stan harshly patted his back as he barked out a laugh. Hephzie put her fork down so she wouldn't be tempted to eat and accidently choke.

But Maddie, or more accurately, Rachel, wasn't done. "'Ya wanna know how I know, cuz my mother says so! She says "Ya stupid motherfather! Imma take my foot n' put it up your ask!" Oo! N' he's not the only motherfather! Imma little motherfather!'"

Stan banged his fist on the table multiple times, shaking the whole piece of furniture and everything on it, while Ford is laughing so hard his eyes are building up tears and Hephzie is holding her ribs as they ached.

"'N' my granny, she's a nosy motherfather!'" Rachel had apparently added, according to Maddie. "'N' my neighbor, Ms. Donald, she's a loose motherfather! N' my father sometimes calls himself a smooth motherfather! He also says that my mother is a scary motherfather.' N' then her face all red n' she added, 'Sorry, Daddy, I forgot that was a secret.' Meanwhile the whole church is either bustin' up laughin' or had fallen over n' fainted!" Maddie laughed.

Fiddleford was now also laughing, remembering how funny it had been when he was in the middle of the church and saw the look on Rachel's parents' faces. Ford removed his glasses to wipe his eyes dry, all the while still laughing like he hadn't in a long time. Stan eventually calmed down and started to take in deep breaths. Hephzie is still struggling to breathe, but she's slowly remembering how to use her lungs properly and soon she's sipping her sweet tea and she says,

"Sweet Lord, what I wouldn't give to be in that congregation!"

"Oh, man, the look of her mama n' papa's faces was like nothin' I'd ever seen!" Fiddleford laughed. "The things some kids say… I didn't realize how funny they could be until we had Tater." And he ruffled his son's hat, making the boy smile and playfully swat his father's hand away.

"Oh, I know," Hephzie said. "I remember at my church growin' up there was this little boy named Jarel. Sweetest little boy ya'd ever meet. He was 'bout five-years-old when I was a senior in high-school, n' it's summer n', like always, everybody's outside chattin' n' socializin' n' plannin' out lunch n' whatnot. Now, Jarel's best friend lived with his grandma in a little house across the street from the church, n' every day Jarel's daddy - he was the pastor at the church, by the way - would walk his son across the street to pick up his friend n' then they'd come back. Well Jarel was gettin' bored n' his daddy was busy n' all, so even after I let him braid my hair n' tried to get him to listen to whoever I was talkin' to, he wandered off n' did his own thang. I wasn't worried until I saw him outta the corner of my eye walkin' across the street! I'm thinkin, 'I don't wanna go to Hell for lettin' the pastor's boy get killed.' So I ran to him n' stopped him from goin' any further. I get to his level n' ask, 'What are ya goin, ya know ya can't cross the street without holdin' somebody's hand?!' But he said, 'I am! Imma holdin' my hand!' N' he holds up his held hands to show me that he's holdin' his own hand!"

Everyone laughed, even the twins the story being new to them, and Hephzie laughed a little before continuing.

"All I could do was hold my head n' tell him that he needed to hold an adult's hand, so he took my hand n' I walked him to his friend's house n' back. Darn kid gave me a heart attack n' probably took a few years off my life."

Tate asked over all the laughing with an encouraged grin, "Wait, that doesn't count?"

Fiddleford wiped a tear from under his eye and looked at the boy a little more seriously, but he still had a kind smile on his face. "No, son, that doesn't count. Ya always gotta hold an adult's hand when crossin' the street."

"What 'bout when I'm an adult?" Tate asked curiously. He was a bright boy, much like his father, and normally asked a lot of questions.

"Well hopefully by then you'll have a lady-friend to hold your hand." Maddie teased and rubbed her son's back affectionately. "But I suppose once you're an adult ya don't have to hold somebody's hand."

"Take it from me, Tater Tot." Hephzie added in between bites of her ham. "You'll wanna hold someone's hand when crossin' the street."

Ford was stiff for a moment, remembering when Hephzie had been hit by that truck, and that familiar but still unwelcomed guilt fell into the pit of his stomach. No, no. Holding hands wouldn't have prevented the accident. Ford swallowed some water and the tiny knot was gone, as usual.

"Okay." Tate said. "Can I have another biscuit?"

"I dunno, can ya?" Fiddleford teased as he passed the bowl of bread to his son and he picked a biscuit. Tate shook his head disapprovingly in order to stay respectful and not say something smart, and then he bit into his bread. Maddie rolled her eyes at the joke her husband enjoyed making.

Stan sat his fork down and patted his full gut. "Welp, I won't be eating again for the rest of the week."

"In all honesty, Maddie," Ford said as he ate his greens. "This is one of the best meals I've had in a long time. Thank you very much!"

Maddie blushed and sipped her tea to try to humble herself. "Oh, you're welcome. I was happy t'do it. Expect a lot more meals like this from now on." She challenged with a wink and Stan looked ready to fall out of his chair. Maddie then turned her attention to Hephzie and asked, "So, how's work. Ya always got the funniest stories!"

Hephzie chuckled as she chewed on her meat, and once her mouth was empty, she said, "Oh, let me tell y'all what happened today at work! So this one lady comes in to confirm that she's gonna have a baby. She's nineteen, tells me she's in college, there's no ring on her finger, n' seems a little calm 'bout the whole thang. I'm thinkin' she's probably numb from shock or had been tryin'. So I do an ultrasound n' it doesn't take long for me to pick up two heartbeats."

"No!" Maddie gasped.

"Yes!" Hephzie replied, happy to have just an interactive audience. "So I tell her after checkin' that everythang looks good, 'Wow, both heartbeats are really strong.' N' then she goes 'Oh, well that's good since I'm having a baby.' I just sorta blink n' try to remind myself that shock is a strong drug, so I said, 'Wait, what?' N she says, 'Well, it's a good thing that my heart is strong too because I'm about to have a baby.' So I laugh a little n' pull the screen closer so she can see n' I said, 'No, I'm talkin' 'bout both of the babies have strong heartbeats.' She's quiet n' shocked, obviously, n' as I'm packin' everythang up I'm 'bout ready to comfort her n' spill this speech that only Ghandi's long-lost descendant could've cooked up, 'bout how the two best people in my life are twins n' have blessed me in more ways than I can say, n' that she's so lucky n' that everythang's gonna be okay, but before I can say a word she sits up n' says, 'Can't believe I'm gonna be pregnant for eighteen months.'"

Maddie's jaw dropped and then she laughed. In fact, the whole table does. Ford held his head over the woman's stupidity while trying to make his blushing go away about what his wife had said. _The two best people in my life are twins n' have blessed me in more ways than I can say._ God, what did Ford do to deserve her?

"God Almighty, please tell me you're jokin'!" Maddie laughed.

"Nope." Hephzie said plainly. "I swear, I get dumb questions n' statements like that all the time! I lose my mind nearly every day! Some people just shouldn't repopulate."

"Well, I hope everythang works out okay for her." Maddie said as she stood up with her empty plate.

"Oh, she seemed happy about the fact that she was havin' twins once I explained it to her that she'll only be pregnant for another eight months." Hephzie said as she stood up and started to gather dishes.

"No, no, Hephzie, I cooked, I clean."

"Nuh, uh. My house, my rules, n' I say I do the dishes. Ya sit n' rest."

"Aw, c'mon…"

"I mean it…"

The women bickered playfully as they both started to do dishes and Stan stood up to go watch TV. Tate followed him, enjoying the idea of getting lost in a mindless program, and Ford and Fiddleford walked to the porch to sit and talk. The two scientists both enjoyed the cool summer night. Fireflies danced around the grass and sounds of the woods graced Fiddleford's ears.

"God bless, I've missed this." He sighed happily as he rocked in his chair, his eyes closed and his hands comfortably folded over his gut. "Ya saw the farm I grew up in. We were a ways away from the woods, but we were close enough t'enjoy 'em. When money got tight Papa n' Todd would go out n' hunt squirrels n' rabbits. I went huntin' once, but I just couldn't do it. I couldn't shoot."

Frd nodded at hearing his friend's story. "Abraham Lincoln went through the same thing when he was a boy."

Fiddleford chuckled and nodded. "Course, for some odd reason, I had no trouble fishin'. I guess cuz the woodland critters seemed so… alive, while as fish reminded me of plants. They're alive, but not… all there, ya know?"

"I think so." Ford said, getting the general idea of what his friend meant. "I grew up fishing with Stan and Hephzie. We mostly put them back, but not because we had a problem bringing them home for dinner, but because we didn't need to. In retrospect I suppose when Hephzibah's family was tight on money they could have used the extra food, but the fish in our hometown was dangerous to eat. Too many glass shards."

"I remember ya sayin' ya got a boat for your birthday." Fiddleford brought up.

Ford smiled and nodded. "I still don't know how Hephzibah managed to do it without my suspicions at least, but she did. One day Stanley and I will have to take you and Tater out to fish. If you want to, of course."

"Tate'll love that, thanks." Fiddleford replied. "That was one thang I didn't like 'bout Palo Alto: no good place t'fish unless ya wanna take an hour drive."

"Is that why you moved? To fish?" Ford joked with a low chuckle to boot.

Fiddleford returned the laughter. "Well, we had more than one reason. Mainly, we saw an opportunity n' we took it. We were fine with Palo Alto, but with Tate startin' school a year from now n' takin' how much we like it here n' with ya needin' my help with your project, now more than ever seemed like the most ideal time t'move."

Ford admitted to himself that it did make more sense to move when all things were considered. He had initially thought of having Fiddleford stay in the guest bedroom and go back home to visit his family every once and awhile, but if this was what Fiddleford and Madeline wanted to do and they honestly thought that it was best for them, then he was happy for them. "Thank you, again, for helping me." Ford said.

"Oh, hey," Fiddleford said as he waved away his friend's thanks. "What else are friends for?"

Ford smiled and looked out at the dark woods. His Muse had said something similar to him before. They were both right. Ford had never really experienced such acts of kindness (outside of Stan and Hephzie) until after high-school, and he found that when you care about someone, you're willing to do a lot for them. Ford knew that he would be willing to do the same for Fiddleford if he had asked, heck he didn't even have to ask. Maybe he should give Fiddleford's personal computer idea a chance.

The door opened and Tate came out with a little jar in his hands. The lid had a few holes poked into it.

"Whatcha got there, son?" Fiddleford asked.

"Uncle Stan gave me a jar n' said we could catch fireflies!" Tate answered and then looked out at the yard full of glowing bugs. His jaw dropped and he said, "Wow! Look at all of 'em!"

Stan got out and took in a deep breath. "Alright, Tater Tot, let's see how many we can catch!" The boy ran out to the yard with Stan and started to let the bogs crawl into his hands and he slipped them into his jar.

"So, this portal," Fiddleford brought back up and Ford averted his eyes from the activity taking place on the yard to his friend. "When did ya wanna get started?"

"How soon will you be moved in?" Ford asked.

"I'd say by the end of the week."

"Let's go over the blueprints and get started on Monday. Stan will, of course, be helpful as well. This isn't a small hand-held device. This portal will be far bigger than the two of us combined. We'll need Stan's help with heavy lifting and the construction of the project."

Fiddleford nodded. "Course, it's not like we're alien to engineerin'."

"No, of course not." Ford agreed. "We could probably get it done without Stan, but it would take much longer and be much more difficult. Three pairs of hands are better than two."

"I agree. Why do ya think my folks had so many children?"

"Am I too assume that Tate will have many brothers and sisters?" Ford teased, fully intending to drop the subject after he had a laugh; he thought plans of having a family were private unless one felt like sharing.

In this case, Fiddleford was open to sharing. He shrugged with a laugh and answered with, "I've always wanted a big family. Madeline was an only child n' regrets that, but she's a little… apprehensive 'bout havin' another child, n' quite frankly so am I. Tate's been quite the little troublemaker, but... I wouldn't rule out the possibility of us having more children, but don't hold your breath."

Ford nodded, understanding Fiddleford's logic, and watched Tate play with Stan. They had a good number of fireflies in the jar now and were watching them glow from behind the glass.

"What 'bout ya n' Hephzie?" Fiddleford asked politely to keep the conversation going. "Do y'all plan on havin' any children?"

Ford was stiff at the question and rocked in his chair in an attempt to relax. "We have thought about it, but ultimately decided to wait until I can prove my Unified Theory of Weirdness."

Fiddleford nodded. "I can respect that. At first, I wanted to wait until I could get Computer Magigs off the ground, but Maddie made a good point that if we weren't careful no time would be 'perfect'." And Fiddleford even made air quotations around the word "perfect".

Ford raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"Well, ya know what they say. 'The grass always seems greener on the other side.' Say we waited until I finished my personal computer n' got Computer Magigs off the ground. If it became as big as I'm dreamin' of, then we'd probably make excuses how I'm too busy or I'm tired from workin' to want t'have kids, so we'd say t'wait even more. Than we might say we should wait for some other reason 'till time got away from us. If ya really think 'bout it, there really is no perfect time to start a family, but I think that's the idea." Fiddleford concluded. "Ya don't start a family cuz it'll be easy - cuz Lord knows it won't be - ya start a family cuz ya want to." Fiddleford thought of something and quickly added, "Not that I'm sayin'... I didn't mean t'disrespect your choice…!"

"No, no." Ford said calmly and put a hand up to stop his apology. "No offense taken, Fiddleford."

"Daddy! Daddy!" Tate yelled and ran up to the porch. Fiddleford perked up and smiled at the boy when he displayed the glowing jar proudly. "Look at all the fireflies we caught!"

"Wow, son!" Fiddleford said more enthusiastically than he might have. "That's a whole bunch! Uncle Stan did a good job teachin' ya, huh?"

"Uh, huh." Tate said with a big smile and nodded. "Uncle Stan's the best!"

Stan sat on the steps and leaned against a beam with a smug grin on his face. "Well thanks, squirt. You're not half bad yourself."

"Imma show Mama!" Tate said and ran into the house.

"Be sure not t'let 'em bugs out in the house, Tater!" Fiddleford called back.

"We've had worse things in the house." Stan pointed out.

"So Ford has told me." Fiddleford said and he gave the twins a skeptical look. "Please tell me not all of your stories are true."

Ford couldn't help himself. He smiled and readjusted his glasses by pinching the edge of his frame and lining the glasses up better with his eyes. "Just wait and see."

* * *

Ford and Fiddleford were down in the basement, reviewing the blueprints and double-checking equations. Well, Ford was; Fiddleford was quintuple-checking the equations.

Ford had to admit to himself that it was nice to have his best friend around again. Ford had been lucky to have the companionship of his twin brother and his wife while in Gravity Falls, but Fiddleford's company gave Ford something he couldn't have with Hephzie or Stan. They were both very intelligent in their own right, but Fiddleford had the same kind of intelligence that Ford had; Hephzie's intellect was more on medical care and she proved to be surprisingly wise at times, Stan was street smart and cunning, where as Ford and Fiddleford were both book-smart and did very well academically and in their respective scientific fields. This shared quality meant that they could have conversations that, otherwise, would be nonexistent, like the latest scientific breakthroughs and other discussion topics.

Today, however, they had a more "normal" conversation about the latest fashion trend.

"I could understand if people wear 'em for warmth, but wouldn't pants do a better job since it covers more than your calves?" Fiddleford brought up as he sat at one desk and reread a blueprint.

"I suppose they do it more for the look." Ford said with a shrug as he read over some equations while fiddling with Fiddleford's Cubic's Cube. Fiddleford couldn't stand to see it unsolved for more than two seconds and Ford enjoyed messing it up and seeing him try to fix it, so Ford had sneakily taken it and was messing with it quietly so Fiddleford wouldn't notice. "I also think the idea is that when you exercise it makes you sweat more and therefore you lose weight more quickly."

"I suppose." Fiddleford then fell silent and seemed to have nothing more to add on the subject matter of leg warmers. Ford thought he heard something and he pocketed the cube in his trenchcoat before turning in his desk chair to confirm his superstitions. Fiddleford's leg was bouncing at 2.3 KBPS (Ford could tell how anxious his friend was based off of his knee bounces per second), indicating that he wasn't necessarily distress, but was slightly apprehensive about something. "Stanford," Fiddleford said and turned to look at his friend. "These blueprints… they're somethang truly incredible."

"Well… thank you." Ford said hesitantly, knowing that Fiddleford wasn't done but he wanted to show his gratitude for the compliment nonetheless.

"It's just… not t'insult your intelligence in any way, but these blueprints are unbelievably complex. Even ya admitted t'needin' my assistance, so I'm just wonderin' if maybe someone helped ya come up with this idea. Did Stan or Hephzie work on this, too?" Fiddleford asked, hesitantly as to not hurt his friend's feelings by implying that Ford wasn't smart enough to come up with these plans alone, which was not his intention at all.

Ford shook his head with a smile to ease Fiddleford's worries. "No offense taken, buddy. No, Stan and Hephzie didn't help me with this. Hephzibah has been too busy at work and Stanley… no, they didn't help me with this."

"Than someone else did?" Fiddleford asked politely.

Ford considered the question carefully. He had been extremely careful to keep his Muse a secret from Stan and Hephzie, which was not an easy task, and he often wondered if it was worth it. It seemed like the longer Ford kept it a secret the more he asked himself if he should tell someone. Maybe he should confide in Hephzibah and tell her how Ford got the antidote for zombification. Maybe he should share with Stanley who has been helping them better understand the anomalies of Gravity Falls. Maybe he should trust in Fiddleford and admit that someone else has been assisting him in this project, but no. Fiddleford was a very superstitious and religious man, who crosses himself when he walks over graves and hates it when Ford says, "What the Devil!" If Ford told Fiddleford, he would think Ford was crazy, and even if he didn't think that, it would be unfair to tell Fiddleford and not tell Hephzie or Stan, and Ford couldn't tell just Hephzie or just Stan for the same reason.

Ford shook his head and picked up a stack of papers. "With hard work, anything is possible, Fiddleford. Now, would you mind going over these equations?"

Fiddleford met Ford halfway and took the stack with a smile. "Not at all, old friend, that's what I'm here for." He said, and decided to let it go for now.

It was times like these that Ford was grateful for Fiddleford's Southern hospitality.

* * *

Hephzie yawned into her palm before sipping her coffee. She had worked a long day at the hospital yesterday and was going to have another long day today, but after all of that she had two days off to rest, so she happily sipped coffee with her family and privately planned to grab a doughnut at the shop on the first-floor of the hospital shortly before work.

At ten-thirty, she put her empty mug in the sink, kissed Ford goodbye, and headed out the door as she grabbed her black leather jacket from the hook by the door, but stopped when she saw Fiddleford on the porch, about to knock on the door. "G'mornin', Fidds." Hephzie greeted.

Fiddleford looked very stressed this morning, but smiled a little when he saw his friend. "G'mornin', Hephzie. Headin' to work?"

"Sadly." Hephzie chuckled. "I should be back 'round midnight." Fiddleford cringed sympathetically at the long day Hephzie had ahead of her and she turned her head back into the house. "Boys, Fiddleford's here!" She turned to her friend and held the door open for him. "They're in the kitchen."

"Thanks." Fiddleford replied and walked into the house, leaving Hephzie to go to work on her motorcycle. Fiddleford didn't run anymore, but he didn't stall going into the kitchen. He found the twins drinking their own mugs of coffee and they smiled at Fiddleford as he entered. This also helped lower Fiddleford's anxiety, to the point that when he sat down, his KBPS was down to 1.8.

"Morning, Fiddlenerd." Stan greeted in a chilled manner. "Hungry?"

Fiddleford paused for a moment at his question and then gave his head a little shake. "N-No, thank ya, Stan. I already ate. Maddie made biscuits n' gravy."

Ford checked the clock that hung over the kitchen doorway again and said, "Well, then once we finish our coffee we should get to work."

"What's the plan for today?" Stan asked. "Should we keep on laying down the groundwork?" Stan might not be as technologically advanced as Ford and Fiddleford, but he was a fast learner and proved to be very helpful when working on the portal, asking questions the other two never bothered to ask and always handy to break a tie.

Fiddleford remembered why he had been so anxious this morning after breakfast and his KBPS spiked up to 3.9. "I-I'm afraid I have some terrible news, gentlemen!" He yelled in a panic. "I was lookin' over the plans after breakfast when I came t'the conclusion that in order t'power the portal, we'd need a Temporal Displacement Hyperdrive!"

"So, what's wrong with that?" Stan asked, assuming that the two geniuses were more than capable of building the hyperdrive.

"What's wrong is that humanity won't be able t'invent one for another ten-thousand years!" Fiddleford explained, and his KBPS increased a little to 4.1.

Stan looked down at his nearly-empty mug. "Oh."

Ford, however, gave out a hefty laugh, as if he had heard an amusing joke. "Oh, is that all?"

Fiddleford stared at him like a startled squirrel and stuttered, "I-I-Is th-that all? I-I-Is that all?! I just told ya that all of our hard work for the past month has gone t'waste n' wouldn't be possible t'complete for another ten-thousand years, n' all ya have t'say is 'is that all'?!"

Ford sipped his nearly-finished coffee patiently and calmly said, "Yes, because I know where to get one."

Fiddleford might as well had been shot with a freeze-ray or thrown into a lake in Alaska; he was completely still and rigid. He opened and closed his mouth to try to ask Ford if this was true, but Stan beat him to it. "What, you have one of those hyperdrive-thingys lying around here?"

Ford chuckled and shook his head. "No, but I do know where to get one. In fact, you do, too, Knucklehead."

Stan thought about it for a moment, a little unsure if he had ever seen a Temporal Displacement Hyperdrive, but then he slapped a hand on the table and grinned mischievously. "Oh! Yeah, I know what you're talking about!"

"Well, I don't!" Fiddleford reminded the twins urgently with his hands entangled in his hair. "What are ya two talkin' 'bout? Where can we get a Temporal Displacement Hyperdrive?"

Stan and Ford exchanged amused looks and Stan motioned his brother onward and leaned back in his chair to enjoy the show. Ford smiled at his old college roommate and said, "We can get one at a location we have named Crash Sight Omega, where an alien spacecraft had crashed landed in Gravity Falls millions of years ago."

Fiddleford's reaction did not disappoint. He clenched his hands and pulled, actually removing some hair from his scalp, and then left his chair to pace the kitchen in a very Ford-like manner, moving quickly and holding his chin as he swallowed this life-changing thought. "Are ya serious?! Aliens?! Here?! My cousin, Thistlebert, said his grandma was taken by what he called 'saucer people', but nobody believed it; we just thought her mind was leavin' her in her old age! Sweet Saparilla! If what y'all are sayin' is true, this could change everythang!"

Stan laughed and said, "It is true! It exists, and I'd bet my car that the hyperdrive is in there somewhere."

"We can take a two-day hike to the exact location." Ford suggested. "We could take the one-day expedition into the heart of the valley, but that entrance leads to the storage facility and we'll have better luck finding the Temporal Displacement Hyperdrive in the engineering section of the spacecraft."

"Sweet Heaven Above," Fiddleford swore and he held his head and stood still. "A real alien spaceship…"

Ford looked at his friend cautiously and asked slowly, "Are you alright, Fiddleford?"

Fiddleford grinned and looked at the twins excitedly. "Are ya kiddin'?! This is fantastic! I know y'all said this town is somethang else, but… well, never mind all that! When should we go? We need the Temporal Displacement Hyperdrive before we can move any farther ahead on the portal, so we may want to get it sooner rather than later."

"We'll leave the day after tomorrow." Ford settled. "The girls can go a few days without us."

* * *

Maddie stirred the tomato soup as Fiddleford talked to her from the table. Their son was listening as the boy patiently waited for dinner and for Maddie's response to all of this.

"A spacecraft?" She clarified.

"Yup." Fiddleford said with a nod of his head.

"N' Ford says it's hidden in the woods?"

"Yup."

"N' it'll take two-days t'get what y'all need from there?"

"Yes."

Maddie scooped up a bit of the thick tomato soup and tasted it from her wooden spoon. It tasted just like the way her aunt used to make it, so she tapped the spoon on the edge of the pot and got the three bowl to start serving dinner.

"Well, I dunno what ya expect me t'say except y'all better come home in one piece or I'll beat the whoopin' daylights outta." Maddie said with a smile and looked over at her husband.

Fiddleford grinned at her support and said, "Madeline, sweetheart, I promise we'll be just fine. I'll be home before y'all know it, n' I'll brin' somethang over t'surprise ya!"

"Can it be a dog?" Tate requested.

Fiddleford couldn't help but laugh at his son's quick wit; he never did pass up an opportunity to try to ask for a dog. "Tater, why on Earth would I bring ya a dog from a spaceship?"

Tate shrugged and said, "Cuz an alien dog would be even cooler than a regular ole dog."

"Well, your father ain't brinin' ya a dog or an alien dog." Maddie said firmly as she placed a small bowl of soup in front of her son.

"Aw…" Tate whined as he picked up his spoon and rested his cheek on his fist.

"No elbows on the table." Maddie reminded her son and he set his arm down.

"Why can't I have a dog?" Tate asked.

Fiddleford gave it some serious thought, seeing how a simple question deserved a simple answer. If he couldn't give his son a pet, he could give him an explanation. "Well, son, we just moved to a new place n' I'm very busy right now. It just doesn't seem like a good time t'get a dog."

"Well, when will it be a good time t'get a dog?"

Maddie chuckled under her breath as she gave her husband his dinner. "Tell ya what, Tater, when the time comes t'get a dog, we'll tell ya n' make it a family thang. Ya won't come home one day t'find a canine in the livin' room; we'll go out as a family n' find just the right one for all of us. Until then, let's just be appreciative of the family we got, k'?"

Tate thought about it and seemed to find no good way to argue about it in his favor, so he said, "Okay, but one day we will get one, right?"

Maddie paused from pulling out a loaf of french bread from the box and looked at Fiddleford, who looked at her, and they both did that neat thing most married couples seem to do when they look at each other and talk without talking. Maddie and Fiddleford both smiled and came to the same conclusion.

"Yes, son," Fiddleford answered. "One day, we'll get a dog."

Tate grinned, and to hide it he ate his soup without another word.

Maddie sat with the bread and her own bowl of soup and Fiddleford asked her, "Now, are ya sure y'all will be okay on your own?"

"Fiddleford, you'll be gone for two days." Maddie said with a roll of her eyes. "You're off t'go hike in the mountains, not t'fight in a war."

"I know, I'm just checkin' s'all." Fiddleford said defensively with a chuckle and a smile.

Maddie chuckled and ate her tomato soup. "Well, when ya come back, be sure t'have lots of stories for us."

Fiddleford thought to himself that he was the luckiest man alive to have such a supportive wife. Maddie thought to herself that she was a little worried about her husband going off to some place dangerous, but she kept her mouth shut for once and happily ate her dinner with her boys.


	36. Omega

Fiddleford had his hands on his knees as he caught his breath, winded from the hike already, and they hadn't even reached the lake yet.

"C'mon, Fiddlenerd." Stan teased and gave his back a sharp pat, which nearly toppled the weakened engineer over. "Ya can't be tired already."

"I ain't used t'all this hikin' like y'all are." Fiddleford huffed aggravatingly.

Ford checked his watch and said, "Well, we can take a break for now. It's past noon, anyways."

"Great!" Stan plopped down on a big rock and put his backpack down to dig around for a bottle of water. "I'm starved!"

"Madeline packed y'all some lunch if ya want it." Fiddleford said and reached into his own pack and fished around in it until he pulled out a bag full of ham and cheese sandwiches with a special type of sauce Maddie adds to it that she has vowed to take to the grave.

"That was nice of her." Ford said as he pulled out his journal and began to write about their first day hiking.

"No kidding," Stan said as he bit into his sandwich and hummed with satisfaction. "You sure know how to pick' em, Fidds."

"More like I'm the guy who was lucky enough t'get picked by her." Fiddleford corrected with a smile as he ate his lunch on the grass with his friends.

The trio had started on the hike early this morning. After kissing his wife and son goodbye, Fiddleford drove his truck to the shack and left with the twins there, just in time to wave Hephzie goodbye before she had to go to work. The men then headed for the lake, the same lake the _Stan O War II_ was docked on, to reach Trembly Falls and go through the mountains by going into a secret tunnel that was hidden by the falls.

As Stan and Ford picked on Fiddleford about his lack of physical activity in a brotherly way, Fiddleford drew a pair of robotic legs with a stick while he munched on his sandwich, unaware of the creature that was intrigued by the sudden arrival of food.

At first glance, Fiddleford thought that a lumberjack had left their plaid jacket under a bush by a small stream, but no. He eyed it, still as stone, as the creature slowly came out and sniffed the air with a billed face. It had webbed feet and a platypus-like tail. The little guy stood on his back legs like a begging dog and looked at Fiddleford. Or, at least it looked like it did; his eyes were too far apart to be sure of what it was looking at.

Stan was frozen as he watched the anomaly and Ford quietly began to sketch on a blank page, careful to leave room for additional notes for later. "Incredible." The scientist breathed.

"Wh-What in tarnation is that critter?" The engineer whispered, his KBPS up to 2.8.

"That's a Plaidypus." Ford answered. "They must be where lumberjacks get their flannels from. I had heard folklore about this marsupial, but I had assumed that it was only local legend."

"Sixer, by now you should now that nothing is just local legend around here." Stan teased in a low voice.

Fiddleford smiled and tossed over half of his eaten sandwich. "Here ya go, little guy. I'm sure you're more hungry than I am." Just as the engineer reached into his backpack for a second sandwich, he heard a purr and felt something rub against his leg. He looked down and the Plaidypus was showing him affection much like a cat would.

"Looks like ya got a new pet, buddy." Ford said quietly.

Fiddleford scratched the top of its head and smiled. His knee was still. Fiddleford was starting to wonder if not all of the anomalies were dangerous. "Tate asked me t'bring him back a dog. Guess a Plaidypus is close enough." He joked as the creature nuzzle its head into Fiddleford's hand.

"Who would want a platypus as a pet?" Stan snorted into his canteen of water. "Sounds like something you'd only see on TV."

After lunch was finished and the Plaidypus saw that there was no more food, they went their separate ways and the humans headed for Trembly Falls.

Once at the lake, Fiddleford stared in amazement, as well as the twins. It didn't matter how many times the Pines came to the lake to fish or be lazy on their sailboat, they were still astonished by the stunning beauty of the lake. The twins were so captivated by the gentle waves, the sparkling sun, the cluster of trees that circles the mass body of water, that they needed to be called loudly by Fiddleford to regain their consciousness. "What in tarnation?! Stanley, Stanford, have y'all ever seen this before?!"

Stan and Ford turned to Fiddleford's direction and awed at something new. It could pass as a boulder, a browning big boulder, but the shape was too distinct and it looked more whitish-yellow than a light dirt-brown. With the root stuck in the sand and the crown filthy, it looked like a giant tooth was on the shore of the lake.

"Hot Belgian Waffles!" Stan swore and went up to it. "That's a giant tooth!"

"I've never seen anything like it…" Ford marveled and immediately pulled out his journal to sketch it.

"Y-Ya haven't?" Fiddleford clarified, a little unnerved that two men who came to the lake a lot had never seen this before.

"Nope. We usually hang out on the other side of the lake." Stan justified and pointed to where the lake curves. "The docks are over there and it's great for taking off, then we usually circle around here to fish, but we usually don't come to this part of the lake."

"In the past, I've noticed that one of the islands never seems to be at the same place at once." Ford said. "Maybe this is why."

"What do you mean, Sixer?"

Fiddleford pulled out some of his dental floss and said in a low voice, "I think I get the idea."

Stan dug around his pack and said, "I've got a chisel in here we can use."

The two got to work: Fiddleford worked away at the roots and Stan chipped away at the crown, working together to break off whatever was caked on the tooth thanks to a lack of proper dental care. Perhaps this will make Stan take better care of his teeth. Ford couldn't help himself but smile as he watched them work. Ever since the McGuckets moved to Gravity Falls, Fiddleford and Stan had grown closer. Sure, they had met at Ford's wedding and gotten to know each other over the years, but now they seemed to have more in common than just Ford, and he was grateful for that. Like, they were becoming friends because they wanted to, not because they felt obligated to because they had a friend in common.

Ford decided to sit for a minute as he sketched the newfound investigations and theories in his beloved book. He was lost in thought and almost missed it when Fiddleford and Stan both excitedly yelled that they had found nerve tissue at the root of the tooth, and crushed mollusks, fish bones, and a broken wristwatch at the crown. Ford grinned as his theory seemed plausible: a giant head, disguised as an island, lived in the lake. First the Gobblewonker, now a giant head… how many oddities could fit in one lake? Ford thought it was a pity that the cabin wasn't closer to the water; they wouldn't have to deal with zombie-lumberjacks if they hadn't built their home over the Northwest family's old crimes.

Stan and Fiddleford nearly had to drag Ford away from the lake to keep him going. It was only when Stan snatched up his journal and threatened to throw it into the water that they finally moved on for Trembly Falls. The trio hiked around the lake to a cliff that made Trembly Falls. They used the cliff to hike behind the falls, just barely getting sprayed by the falling water, and entered a hidden cave. It was vast and had rocks that led up to a second-floor like cliff, but that's not what they sought after.

"Are ya sure this is it?" Fiddleford asked hesitantly, not to insult the twins' intelligence, but confused as to how this empty cave could lead them to the other side of the mountain.

"Ah, ah." Ford said warningly with a raised finger. "Remember, not everything is what it seems." He and Stan moved to a big boulder and worked together to push it out of the way. Slowly, like the tomb of Jesus Christ, a dark tunnel was revealed. Fiddleford's jaw dropped and then he grinned. Once the boulder was out of the way, Ford pulled out his old Civil War lantern and looked at Stan and Fiddleford. "Now who wants to go first?"

Fiddleford walked in and awed at how the tunnel was formed. It looked sturdy enough, but it appeared to be hundreds of years old, possibly even thousands, and was actually quite big; it was tall enough that if Fiddleford got on one of the twin's shoulders, his head would graze the dirt. Ford stepped in and led on while Stan closed the entrance with the boulder to keep nosey archaeologists from digging everything up, and to keep the eyebats out, too.

"This place is amazin'!" Fiddleford said as Stan caught up to them and they soon came across scattered paintings the Natives had made a long time ago.

"The Natives came here to hide from the anomalies." Ford informed and pointed to one painting of what looked like a three-headed dinosaur being hunted by a man armed with a bow and arrow. "If the beasts that roamed ancient Gravity Falls were anything like these, the Natives needed a safe place to hide in case disaster stuck, so they built this sanctuary to hide in times of turmoil."

"Thanks, Mr. Tour Guide." Stan teased and elbowed him as he walked on by. "Let's just hurry up and get outta here."

"What, are ya claustrophobic?" Fiddleford asked with a smirk.

Ford sneered and said, "No, no, but he's…"

"Shut it, Brainiac!" Stan growled and punched his shoulder.

Ford and Fiddleford both laughed and walked on; Ford could spill Stan's secret later if he desired. For a few hours the three men ventured through the mountain. Occasionally, Ford would snap a picture and Fiddleford would stare at the stories the Natives displayed on the walls of their home, but Stan kept them moving along. Unfortunetly, at one point in their journey, Ford's lantern went out and left the three in the darkness.

"Son of a…"

"Stanley."

"Sweet Saperilla, I can't see a thing!"

"Yeah, that's what usually happens when you're stuck in a cave with no light, Genius."

"Thank you, Stanley, for the clarification."

"Wait, hold up, I've got a lighter here, just give me a sec."

"Great!"

Stan flicked his lighter on and it was just enough to light up the three men's faces and create shadows to indicate where the walls were, but it was still a sad amount of light. "Give the lantern here, Poindexter."

Ford held up the lantern and Stan opened the little door to relight it. Just before the tiny flame touched the wick, they heard what sounded like the chirping of a bird.

Fiddleford looked around and asked, "Uh, fellers, y'all never mentioned there bein' any birds in here."

"Cuz we didn't know there were birds in here." Stan answered and also kept his eyes peeled.

The chirping came back and was hollowed by a hum. Chirp, chirp, hum. Chirp, chirp, hum. Fiddleford squinted when he thought he saw some light up ahead, but it was hard to tell if it was actually there or just a shadow from the lighter in Stan's hand.

"Stanley, turn off the lighter for a minute."

Stan clicked it shut with a flick of his wrist and they were engulfed in darkness. Well, not entirely. Where Fiddleford thought he saw something, he saw a pair of light-blue glowing eyes. The trio stared and saw another pair slowly fade in, and then another pair. They blinked and seemed to be coming closer. They heard clicking, like… like diamonds against the ground, and a soft light was illuminated from the creatures that slowly approached, like a hurt kitten.

It was like a dark ball of rock with glowing eyes, a big mouth, and diamonds poking out through its body and using them for teeth and legs. It had four legs and moved slowly. The three oddities moved slowly towards the men and one slowly approached Ford's leg.

"Holy Moses," He swore under his breath and whispered, "This… this is an entirely new classification of organism! A… a Geodite!"

Fiddleford eyed the creatures and Stan was mesmerized. He stiffened when Ford lowered a six-fingered hand to the geodite that approached him and it crawled onto his palm. Ford picked up the little guy, who was a little bigger than his hand, and the geodite rubbed its rough chin against his cold skin and then open its mouth to sing a baby-pitched song. The music echoed off the walls of the tunnel and the three men awed as more of the geodites approached slowly. One munched on Stan's pants-leg and Fiddleford didn't know how to make heads or tails of these little guys.

"They seem to be friendly enough." Fiddleford observed, wondering if the geodite's song was its way of saying that the humans were okay. "I wonder if the Natives kept these fellers as pets."

"I'll buy that." Stan said and flicked his lighter back on and picked up the lantern to light it.

Once the flame touched the wick and the light grew, the genodites let out a terrible shriek and scampered away as fast as their little legs could carry them. The one in Ford's hand bit his finger and actually made him bleed. Ford sucked on his finger to ease the small sting and Stan decided to lead the way since Ford and Fiddleford kept on getting distracted.

Not long after discovering the Geodites, the trio saw light up ahead and after Stan made a joke about meeting their maker, they emerged from the tunnels to find themselves at the top of Gravity Peak. The sun was setting and it wasn't a good idea to travel at night, so the men made camp for the night, sitting around the fire and enjoying each other's company.

Ford had his journal prompted on his knees to record the events of the day, sketching a silhouette of himself, his brother, and their friend going into the cave hidden by Trembly Falls. He drew a geodite and wrote down what had happened. Stan was lying on his back, his head cushioned by his crossed arms, and Fiddleford was eating from a can of baked beans his wife had packed for him. Ford's attention was on his journal until Stan made a comment for anyone to jump on.

"The stars look pretty good up here."

Ford blinked his stiff eyes and looked upward. In a vast blanket of darkness, strange constellations only found in Gravity Falls twinkled. Ford smiled at seeing the stars; stargazing was a favorite pastime for him and Stan seemed to enjoy it just as much when they were children and even now. "They do." Ford agreed.

Fiddleford looked up and smiled. He sat his can and spoon aside and laid down, too. He used his arms to create a makeshift pillow for his head and neck and he looked at such beautiful creations with eyes that mirrored the stars. "God Almighty, it's beautiful out here."

There was silence, or about as much silence as there could be. Bugs chirped in the woods. A cowl might make itself heard. The fire crackled as the wood was broken down. The scratching of Ford's pen against paper harmonized with the other noises of the night. And then Stan opened his big mouth, as usual, and broke the silence. "Hey, Fiddlenerd. What are your plans for when this whole portal thing is done and over with?"

Fiddleford hummed for a moment, thinking about it, and then said as he looked up at the stars, "I've always dreamed of becomin' an independent inventor, caterin' t'people with robotics that would improve our daily lives. Honestly, after growin' up dirt-poor, I'd be perfectly happy t'have enough money t'keep my house from ever havin' a broken screen door for longer than a day."

"I can respect that." The retired criminal said.

"I'm lookin' forward t'havin' more time with my family. Not that I'm not enjoyin' our time together! But it'll be nice t'take Tate out t'fish n' help him in school, maybe even give him some brothers n' sisters in a few years."

"Yeah, having a brother is pretty cool, I guess." Stan sneered, averting his eyes to his twin as much as he could without moving.

"I love you, too, Stanley." Ford said sarcastically to drive the joke home and the men gave out small chuckles of amusement.

"How 'bout it, Stan?" Fiddleford asked, returning the question. "Got any big plans?"

Stan thought about it. For the last six years he and Ford had worked together to discover the anomalies in Gravity Falls. Once that was over, what was next? It seemed like every time Stan made a plan, it fell apart, so maybe no plan was the best plan. He had planned to sail around the world, that didn't happen. He had planned to make it big on his own, that didn't work out well for a high-school dropout. He had planned to say goodbye to Ford and Hephzie for good after their wedding, and clearly that didn't fly.

"Not really." Stan admitted. "I mean, Ford's the plan guy. How about it, Sixer? What's our next move after the portal's done?"

"Well," Ford said and closed his journal to fully engage in the conversation. "When the portal is finished and we can prove my theory, I can finally publish my work and it's only a matter of time until we are recognized for our discoveries. We'd be the toast of the scientific community, rubbing elbows with presidents and prizewinners, debating politics with Reagan, and discussing turtleneck fashion tips with Carl Sagan."

"More like _you'd_ be discussing turtleneck fashion tips with Carl Sagan." Stan corrected. " _I'll_ be on the other side of the room charming babes. Honestly, I wouldn't have a problem going down in history as some kind of badass explorer. The Lewis and Clark of the twentieth century. Who knows? Maybe a hundred years from now kids will be reading about the Pines Twins, adventurers and researchers of all things weird!"

Ford chuckled in agreement. "I would like that."

"N' ya say you're waitin' t'publish your work after the portal's done?" Fiddleford clarified. "Just out of curiosity, why not publish now? Ya already discovered so much 'bout Gravity Falls, 'bout enough to rub elbows or what not." Fiddleford added with a chuckle.

Ford shook his head and laughed good-naturedly. "Once Gravity Falls is revealed to the world, it would surely create a Gold Rush of its own of scientists flocking to the town…"

"A Weirdness Rush!" Stan interrupted, the name coming to him out of the blue.

"Yes, exactly, a Weirdness Rush. If we don't discover the theory first, someone else will. And our names would be lost to the history textbooks. Besides, I have always preferred the road less traveled, but I'm grateful to be traveling with loved ones."

"Geez, Ford, I think there was poison in that rock-creature's bite or something." Stan teased. "You're never this sappy."

Ford rolled his eyes and put his journal aside to lie down, as well. His eyes were treated to a full view of the stars and he smiled as the warmth from the fire mixed perfectly with the cool temperature of the night air. Ford was comfortable and found himself more tired than he thought he was. In fact, he didn't even know he had fallen asleep until he awoke the next morning to the sound of Fiddleford's screaming.

* * *

Stan had a deja vu feeling when Fiddleford cowered behind him. Ford might have hid behind Stan when they were younger, but now they were grown and Ford was much braver than when they were kids. Fiddleford was shaking all over and tried to be discreet about using Stan as a bodyguard, but he was clearly terrified and since Ford wasn't going to aid him, he went to the one person he thought would.

Stan rolled his eyes and hissed over at his brother, "Stanford, are you crazy, let's go."

"One minute, Stanley!" Ford whispered back as he sketched as quickly as he could. He was being very detailed, unsure of when he'll ever get such a good look at the beast and not wanting to waste this opportunity that had been handed to him on a silver platter. "I just want to…"

"F-F-Ford!" Fiddleford whispered in a strained tone. "Wh-What if it wakes up?!"

"It won't; they're very heavy sleepers." Ford replied, not taking his eyes off the anomaly or his drawing of it.

The trio were taking a shortcut back home after reaching Crash Sight Omega and finding the Temporal Displacement Hyperdrive, when they had found a Gremloblin sleeping on their path, curled up into a disgusting ball and snoring loudly. Ford was quick to get this fascinating creature documented, and while Stan normally would be okay with observing it, now didn't seem like the best time to be studying one of the most dangerous creatures in Gravity Falls.

"Stanford, please!" Fiddleford begged as quietly as he could while still emphasizing his worry. "I'd feel a lot better if we went home!"

"Fiddleford, don't worry. Trust me, nothing will…"

Due to the high altitude, the Hyperdrive in Fiddleford's backpack suddenly let out a loud shriek, making the humans cover their ears and the Gremloblin wake up with a start. The beast roared angrily and smacked a beefy arm at Ford. He was thrown against a tree and looked up quickly to see the monster go toe-to-toe with Stan as he tried to punch it right back. Fiddleford ran to Ford and helped him get up on his feet.

"You two go ahead!" Stan yelled. "I'll catch up!"

"A-Are ya sure?" Fiddleford asked as he draped one of Ford's arms around his neck to help him walk off his pain.

"My brother can handle himself." Ford said through the strong ache that came from his back. An ugly bruise was probably forming from where his spine had collided with the tree.

The Gremloblin clawed at Stan and he shielded it with his arm, but that left nasty cuts on his limb. The Gremloblin raised another claw to strike again, but Stan rolled out of the way and held his cut arm close to his chest. Fiddleford saw something poking out of Ford's backpack and thought it might be a gun. Thinking irrationally, he grabbed it and left Ford to stand on his own as Fiddleford ran to aid Stan. He stood in front of the monster and clicked the gun at the beast without looking, squeezing his eyes shut and cringing, but heard no gunshot. Fiddleford looked down at the gun and saw that it was the magnet gun.

"Gosh darn it." Fiddleford said miserably and was soon grabbed by the Gremloblin and lifted off of his feet. "WHOA! Uh… h-h-hey there, l-l-l-little g-guy."

The Gremloblin stared at Fiddleford and he couldn't help but look back at the monster. Its eyes glowed yellow and were huge, drawing in Fiddleford's attention. Ford and Stan watched with panic in their own eyes as they saw Fiddleford's eyes begin to glow, too, and they knew what was happening. Ford pulled out his canteen full of water, ran towards the Gremloblin, and splashed it's face to break the eye contact while Stan tried to pull Fiddleford out of the Gremloblin's grasp.

Unfortunetly, the beast only tightened its grip in Fiddleford as it roared and began to mutate. It grew larger and sprouted wings, and with a heave of said wings it flew down the mountain with Fiddleford in his claw and making Stan fall on his face.

"QUICK! AFTER THEM!" Ford yelled as Stan hurried to his feet and the twins ran after them.

The Gremloblin left a trail of broken tree branches in which Stan and Ford scratched themselves on. Stan's arm still bled profoundly, but he didn't care. If he and Ford didn't act quickly, they may lose Fiddleford forever. They were soon leaving the rocky mountain side as the Gremloblin was flying towards a cliff to soar into the sky. The magnet gun fell onto the grass and Ford picked it up, getting an idea.

"Stanley, grab hold of me!" He yelled.

"What?!" Stan yelled as they ran.

"Trust me!"

The Gremloblin leaped off of the cliff and Ford and Stan were right behind it. Just as they both jumped off the ledge, Stan grabbed Ford by the neck and the scientist shot the magnet gun right at the Temporal Displacement Hyperdrive. The twins were pulled to the Gremloblin and found themselves riding on its back and it sunk a little in the sky due to the extra weight. Ford reached down to try to grab Fiddleford, who was shivering with his yellow glowing eyes, while Stan did what he did best: punch things in the face.

"FROM HELL'S HEART I STAB AT THEE!"

Stan combined his fists and gave one heavy blow to the back of the Gremloblin's head. It was immediately knocked out cold and it and the trio careened down through the air. "HOLD ON!" Stan yelled and held on the Gremloblin, hoping that it would cushion the fall.

Ford yanked Fiddleford out of the monster's claw and held him and the Gremloblin close as the twins screamed for their lives. They crashed through a barn roof and with a sudden thump the Gremloblin landed on a hayloft; the men were jerked off and Stan landed on his back by the hay and Ford and Fiddleford stumbled onto another block of hay.

Stan groaned and slowly opened his eyes, his back aching from the hall and the stinging on his arm registering now that the panic was gone. He opened his eyes to find a horse looking down at him and it licked his forehead. "Ugh. Gross." Stan complained and sat up as he swatted the steed away. "Go on. Shoo."

Stan looked at the Gremloblin to find it knocked out cold on the hay. There were more horses that seemed confused as to why something was lying on their lunch, but not at all fazed and soon they were eating around the knocked-out beast. Ford laid Fiddleford on his back to get a good look at him. His eyes stopped glowing yellow, but he was trembling horribly and his mind was elsewhere; he was so panicked that he didn't even notice that his arm was broken and had several of the Gremloblin's quills pierced into it.

"Fiddleford. Fiddleford, can you hear me?" Ford asked clearly to try to bring his friend back to Earth, but all the engineer could do was shiver and mutter uncontrollably.

"I got this." Stan said and joined the two. He grabbed Fiddleford by the collar of his clothes and slapped Fiddleford across the face before Ford could object.

Fiddleford jerked in response and blinked several times, though his shaking didn't improve. "S-S-Stanford… S-S-Stanley… wh-wh-where…"

"Glad to have you back, Twerp." Stan said with a small smile. "Well, mostly back."

"We crash-landed in a barn." Ford informed his friend as he helped him sit up. "We should…"

"Well kettle my corn!" The trio turned to the entrance of the gate to find a farmer about their age chewing on a piece of wheat and wearing a straw hat and suspenders. He walked up to the three as they started to stand and he asked in a thick accent, "Are y'all alright? Y'all look pretty beat up. Here, let me drive y'all to the hospital t'be fixed up."

Ford's initial thought was to go home and treat their injuries there, but seeing Fiddleford's broken arm and Stan's bleeding arm made Ford question his judgment. Besides, he wasn't a medical doctor. Hephzie might be able to treat them just as well as a hospital, but she specializes in caring for newborns, not injured adults.

"Thank you, sir." Ford said as he helped Fiddleford walk out of the barn. "We're sorry about your roof." And he glanced back up at the hole they had left behind as another piece of wood fell.

"Aw, worse has happened t'this ole barn." The farmer said as he led the way to his truck. "I'm just glad y'all can walk away from this mess alive."

Ford was about to voice his agreement when something occurred to him. The Hyperdrive! He opened Fiddleford's pack and glanced inside. The Hyperdrive was still intact and it looked like no harm had come to it. Grateful for that, Ford's mind was free to revert back to his brother and friend and the damage they had all taken due to Ford's misjudgment.


	37. Healing

The cafeteria downstairs was half-decent, but Dr. Emmanuel Hughes had treated the staff to some pizza, and so Dr. Hephzibah Pines happily sat in the break room with her co-workers and friends and ate a slice of pepperoni pizza. Dr. Hannah Goldstein was quiet while she ate, being deaf and therefore it was hard to talk as she ate, but she could read lips very well and she happily sat and observed the conversation happening between Hephzie and Emmanuel.

The doctor with dreadlocks was extremely tired. She had worked a 10am-to-10pm, but with her family gone for a few days and things were busy at the hospital, she stayed and pulled an all-nighter. She was supposed to come in at 2pm, but since she never left she just kept on working. The boys said they would be home tonight, but hopefully they would be asleep when Hephzie finally came home at 2am. The lack of sleep was getting to her and if she ever pulled a stunt like this again she'd shoot herself with a death ray.

Hephzie yawned into her hand before sipping another cup of coffee. Emmanuel was talking with her pleasantly when a nurse-in-training came into the break room quickly and the three doctors prepared themselves for an emergency.

"Dr. Pines?" The nurse said to get Hephzie's attention. "I think your family's here."

"Whaddya mean, Gabe?"

"A Mr. Stanley Pines and a Dr. Stanford Pines has been checked in for severe injuries. Are…"

Without another word, her adrenaline doing it's job, Hephzie sprinted from the table, pushed the poor intern out of the way, and ran to find her family.

* * *

Fiddleford snapped his eyes open in order to avoid seeing his wife and son lying dead. No! No, they were fine. They'd be here any minute. The first thing Fiddleford had done when he was assigned to a room was call Madeline and shakingly explained to her that he was hurt. She swore she and Tater would be there soon to see him and take him home. They were fine, they were safe. So why couldn't he get these cursed visions out of his head?!

Fiddleford was blind and deaf to the doctor that was tending to his injured arm. Turns out it wasn't broken, but he did have a sprained wrist and the quills that had stabbed his limb didn't help matters. He was bandaged and slipped into a brace. When asked if he felt better, Fiddleford nodded silently and then the kind female doctor with shiny white hair left him alone to rest for a bit and collect himself.

The young engineer sat at the edge of the bed with his eyes unseeing. He gaze was hazily on his bandaged hand, but his mind was elsewhere, slowly slipping back to the visions. Ford was scraped and bleeding out. Stan was lying on his front, clearly dead. Hephzie was gone, too. No! Stop it, for Lord's sake! Everyone was fine! Stan and Ford were hurt, but they were fine and they certainly weren't dead!

Fiddleford looked down at his knee and saw how quickly it was bouncing. His breathing was rapid and uneven. If he wasn't careful, he would work himself into a panic attack. He tried to breathe deeply and calm down, but his mind slowly began to go back to the visions that creature had scarred him with. Lord Almighty, if you're up there, help…

"DADDY!"

That scream grounded Fiddleford. He looked up to find his boy running quickly to him and, seeing his injured arm, the boy wrapped all four of his little limbs around his father's right leg and held on tightly.

"Daddy, I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I don't want a stupid dog anymore! I just want you!"

Fiddleford blinked as he tried to think of what would make his son panic like this. His head must not be as clear as he hoped it was. Fiddleford looked down at Tate and rubbed his shoulders with his uninjured hand. "Aw, no, son." He said calmly, and surprisingly so given how shaken his voice sounded the last time he spoke. "This isn't your fault. I'm okay, really. C'mere." And Fiddleford held his arms open.

Tate didn't hesitate to leap into his father's hold. Fiddleford had him sit on his lap as he hugged his son close to his chest and rubbed his back. Tate cried quietly and tried to hide it by burying his face into Fiddleford's clothes. Fiddleford looked up to find his wife standing at the doorway, having been there the whole time and seen the whole thing.

"Oh, Lord, Fiddleford." Maddie breathed and walked up to him. She threw her purse on the chair next to the bed gently and she put a tender, soft, warm hand on the side of Fiddleford's narrow face, cupping it and feeling how cold his skin was. "What happened to ya? Are ya alright?"

Fiddleford didn't realize how much he needed her until she was there. His heart felt like it had been lifted from the pit of his stomach and back into his chest where it belonged. "I'm alright, sweetheart. We ran into a weird critter, a half-goblin, half-gremlin monster, n' it…" Fiddleford swallowed as the visions came back and made him stiff. Oh, God, those eyes, those eyes! Maddie's thumb grazed his cheek, and so he finished with, "We fell through a barn after tumblin' through the sky with it."

Maddie stared for a moment, shocked, and slowly recovered from the shock. She wanted to yell at her husband and scold him like she would to their son, but the look on Fiddleford's face said that the last thing he needed was to be yelled at right now. "Well… at least you're okay." She wrapped her arms around Fiddleford's shoulders and hugged him close, resting her head on his left shoulder.

Fiddleford freed one arm from hugging his son to hug his wife and he held his family close. He didn't realize it, but his visions were gone. He even smiled when he could smell the familiar scent of home and family and he squeezed his family tight like he always did. Tate's crying had stopped and nobody said a word, too busy enjoying being together for a bit.

* * *

Ford sat in a chair that was next to the hospital bed, his hands entangled and his elbows on his knees as he let his head hang shamefully. The claw scratches Stan had received on his left arm were deep and required stitches. The entire time the doctor worked on stitching Stan's skin back together, Stan leaned back on the pillows with his eyes closed, his face stoic to hide any pain he most certainly felt. The doctor who was tending to him finished, gently wrapped the injury up in bandages, and peeled off his gloves and threw them away. He had a faded Scottish accent and was red-headed; Ford wondered if maybe his family had moved to America when he was a boy or before he was born. He was a nice man and talked pleasantly while he worked on Stan's injury.

"Alrighty, all done. You should be good as new. Be sure to change the bandages regularly and be careful with the stitches." Dr. Wilson said cheerfully and turned his attention to Ford. "Now, how are you feeling, Mr…" And he trailed off, never catching the two men's names, seeing how treating them was more urgent than introductions.

"Pines." Ford said with a polite smile. "Stanford Pines. And I'm fine. My back is sore, but I'm fine."

Dr. Wilson gave him a studying look and then said slowly, "Alrighty, if you're sure, lad."

"Thank you, Dr. Wilson."

The kind doctor nodded and left the room.

Stan stretched his back and swung his legs off the side of the bed. Really, the bed wasn't necessary, but he guessed the idea was to try to make him comfortable when they sewed his skin back together. It was definitely a lot better than sitting in an alley and doing it himself as he bit down on his jacket. Stan looked over at his brother, who was resting his head on his hand, his fist squishing his cheek with an elbow on the arm of the chair, and frowned at him. "Don't do that." Stan snapped.

"Do what?" Ford asked, honestly unsure of what he meant.

"Don't guilt yourself over this."

"If it wasn't for me you wouldn't have been attacked." Ford sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Yeah, well, if it wasn't for you and Hephzie I wouldn't even be here." Stan reasoned as he rolled his shoulders to try to be rid of the ache. "Just don't be stupid."

Ford snorted and looked up at his twin. "I'm concerned for Fiddleford." He confided.

"Hey, don't sweat it." Stan said as he gave Ford's shoulder a small pat. "The twerp'll be fine."

"I'm not just worried about his physical wounds, but his mental ones as well." Ford explained. "He looked into the Gremloblin's gaze, and Fiddleford has always had trouble with his anxiety. If…"

"Where the HELL are they?!" They heard a familiar voice yell from the hall.

"Whoa, who pissed in your..."

"Cut the crap, Jerry! Where the hell is my family?!"

Ford got up quickly as he knew who was yelling at poor Jerry and he went to the open door way and looked to his left. He hardly got a chance for his eyes to focus when a certain someone ran into him and hugged him tightly around the neck.

"STANFORD!" Hephzie yelled, her voice dripping with both relief and panic. Ford struggled to breathe a little with her tight hold, but he managed and he hugged her back around the waist. He didn't realize how much he had missed her until they were reunited.

Hephzie released him to grab his black t-shirt and she demanded with fear in her eyes, "Where's Stanley?!"

"Geez, sis, calm down, I'm right here." Stan said and waved as Hephzie's head turned quickly to look at him.

"Oh, thank God!" Hephzie ran to him and nearly made him lie back on the bed with her force, but Stan soon found himself shocked as she hugged him tightly and rested her head on his shoulder. "Oh, thank God! I thought… I thought…"

Hephzie was not heartless by any means, but she was much like the twins in which case she rarely openly showed her affection. She wasn't afraid to be romantic with her husband, but other than that she was reserved and collected. Ford and Stan were both floored when her arms trembled and her voice cracked and, unless Ford needed new glasses, there had been tears in her eyes. After the shock wore off, Stan hugged Hephzie back and couldn't keep that stupid smile off of his face as he closed his eyes for a moment and allowed himself to relax. Unfortunately, he didn't get to relax for very long, seeing how soon Hephzie let go of him and smacked him upside the head, then turned around and did the same thing to Ford since he had stepped into the room to enjoy the little reunion.

"OW!" The twins both yelled, mostly out of shock that Hephzie went from a distraught young lady to a powerful she-beast in less than a second.

"What the HELL?!" Hephzie yelled angrily. "What did ya two do?! I thought y'all were just goin' on a hike to Omega n' would at least be responsible enough to get home in one piece, but instead I have Gabe come n' tell me that the only family I have left is in the hospital with severe injuries!"

"Whoa, whoa, Hephzie, it's okay." Stan said irritably; Hephzie had smacked him pretty damn hard. "I just got a scratch n' Ford landed funny on his back, but we're fine!"

"Good, so I can kick your asses without feelin' too guilty." Hephzie snarled and popped her knuckles.

Stan rolled his eyes, seeing right through his sister-in-law's empty threat.

"Anyways," Ford said slowly, hoping to steer the conversation in a different direction. "How was work?"

"Long, but it's mostly my own fault." Hephzie sighed. "I worked a ten-to-ten, but I never went home, so I just stayed here n' I still gotta work my two-to-two."

"Hot Belgian Waffles, Hephzie!" Stan swore. "What is wrong with you?!"

"Why didn't you go home?" Ford asked.

Hephzie shrugged. "We were understaffed n' I didn't see much point into goin' home. Plus, Jordan wouldn't lemme go n' Swat was late, then one of my patients went into labor a little earlier than we thought she would, n'..."

There was a soft knock on the open door and three pairs of eyes averted to the doorway. Ford felt like he had met this man once before, but couldn't pinpoint where. He looked about Ford's age, was Caucasian with black hair that spiked a bit and matching sparkling eyes. He had a kind smile and wore a doctor's coat over work-pants and a purple polo. "I'm sorry to interrupt, Hephzie, but Mrs. Andrew is at eight centimeters." The doctor said.

Hephzie stood up and said, "Thanks, Emmanuel. How's Jordan?"

Ford's eyes widened as he remembered the doctor. Hephzie had introduced Ford to Emmanuel and his family at a holiday party the hospital staff held three years ago. Emmanuel Hughes was one of the doctors on the nursery halls, who specialized in delivering and caring for newborns, and had graduated nursing school a year before Hephzie did. He was a good friend of Hephzie's and always treated Ford with just as much friendliness.

"He's healthy, but he's driving Swat crazy." Emmanuel said as he chuckled and leaned against the doorway. "Think you can handle him afterwards?"

"Who do ya think you're talkin' to?" Hephzie teased.

Emmanuel looked at Ford and smiled as he extended his hand and entered the room. "Good to see you again, Stanford."

Ford stood up and shook his hand. "Good to see you, too, Emmanuel. This is my brother, Stanley."

"Pleasure's all mine." Emmanuel greeted as he shook his hand, too. "Hephzie's told me so much about you. Though, I take it you're not here to visit her at work." He said light-heartedly to try to bring some light into the dark situation.

"We had an… incident while out camping." Ford said sheepishly as he rubbed the back of his neck.

"Well, we gotta get back to work." Hephzie said reluctantly.

"Of course." Ford replied and added, "Fiddleford is still being looked over…"

"Fiddleford got hurt, too?!" Hephzie yelled.

"Yes, but he'll be fine!" Ford said quickly with his hands up in surrender. "I'll let you know how he's doing before we leave."

Hephzie huffed in frustration to not only being unable to be with her friends and family when they were hurt, but to be left out of the loop and have to wait to know if her friend was okay. "Fine. I should be in Nursery B on the fourth floor by the time ya guys need to leave." And she left the room to help deliver Mrs. Andrew's baby with Emmanuel behind her.

"We should check on Fiddleford." Ford suggested.

He and Stan left the room and looked for the room they could have sworn Fiddleford was in. It wasn't that hard to find him; once they saw the room number they thought a nurse had said they were taking him to, they could hear familiar voices. Stan and Ford looked into the room, the door wide-open, and saw that Fiddleford must have called his family, because Tate was sitting next to his father on the bed and Maddie was standing by his side as they talked with him. Already, Fiddleford looked better. His arm wasn't in a cast, just a brace, which meant that he probably sprained his wrist or something, but even that didn't measure to how much healthier he looked, and the twins knew why.

Fiddleford's smile was much more radiant and the fear in his eyes was nearly gone as he hugged his son with his uninjured arm and talked with his wife.

* * *

Stan's arm was fine, and after a few messages from his wife Ford's back felt much better, but even after Fiddleford's physical injuries healed, Ford's fear that he might have some mental scars remained intact as Fiddleford's anxiety skyrocketed.

His KBPS was always high now and, more disturbingly so, he left his Cubic's Cube unsolved for days, sitting there untouched on his desk in the lab. Fiddleford tried to lie and say that he was fine, but when Ford asked Maddie if he was actually doing okay, his suspicions were confirmed when she shared that Fiddleford hadn't been sleeping for days thanks to the visions the Gremloblin gave him. Being with his family certainly helped on worse days, sending him home early and having him spend time with his family; the Pines even babysat Tate once or twice so Fiddleford and Maddie could go out to dinner alone.

Stan and Ford were both worried for their friend and took different approaches to helping him. Stan tried to shrug it off and was usually good about distracting Fiddleford temporarily from his nightmares and haunting thoughts by telling stories or cracking jokes. Ford, on the other hand, took it upon himself to help Fiddleford deal with his anxiety directly. Ford even took a break from working on the portal one day to teach Fiddleford some meditation techniques and a heart rate-slowing exercise he had learned to help control his fear (that and the meditation helped to talk to Bill if he needed his assistance; he certainly got the cure for zombification by falling asleep).

Fiddleford was skeptical the entire time, but at the end of it all, over a cup of sweet tea and a hot mug of coffee, Ford put a kind hand on his friend's shoulder and said, "Well, we are scientists. By using our creativity, we can solve any problem we face, including our fears."

Fiddleford smiled weakly and said, "Thank you, Stanford. Really, for everythang."

"Well, of course," Ford said as he patted his shoulder and picked up his mug from the kitchen table. "What else are friends for?" Nevermind the fact that Ford felt responsible for all of this.

* * *

One morning, Fiddleford came running into the house with a tired grin on his face. He found the twins in the kitchen and sipping coffee, Stan reading a newspaper. He and Ford instantly noticed the twinkle in Fiddleford's eye and how real his smile was, and they knew that he truly felt better and wasn't just trying to put up a front.

"G'mornin', Stans!" Fiddleford said cheerfully, even pulling a favorite joke of his.

Ford allowed himself to chuckle under his breath before replying. "Good morning, Fiddleford. Did you sleep well?"

"Not a wink!" Fiddleford said, his cheerfulness still strong and constant.

"Stanley, did you actually go through with your threats to 'drug him up'?" Ford asked his twin in a low voice, in a mockingly quiet voice as he was obviously being sarcastic.

Fiddleford laughed at his friend's joke and said, "No, no, I'm fine, Ford. I've actually stayed up all night and have found a solution!"

"Really?" Ford asked with a soft smile. Sometimes a little lack of sleep, a little insanity, is just enough to make some connections and create some new ideas.

Fiddleford then pulled a device out from his suit jacket and placed it on the table to be observed. He grinned proudly at his creation as the twins tried to figure out what it was by looks alone. It almost looked like a hairdryer or some sort of gun, but an odd one at that. With a pointed bulb, a glass container, a metal container, specificer, and output jack, the new invention left Ford and Stan with a lack of words or an explanation as to what it was.

"So… Maddie's got a new hairdryer?" Stan joked to break the ice.

Fiddleford laughed again and shook his head. "No, Maddie certainly shouldn't use it t'dry her hair. It's a Memory Gun, designed t'target bad memories n' destroy 'em. See, that critter left me with nightmares n' visions that I was cursed t'see every time I closed my eyes, even just t'blink! It was a livin' nightmare, but now I can be free from the visions!"

Stan and Ford threw each other side glances to confirm that they were both unsure how to feel about this device. Ford decided not to jump to any conclusions until he learned more. "So, how does it work?"

Fiddleford sat down at the table and picked up the gun to point out certain parts and he elaborated on what it exactly it did to perform the task. "Well, ya see, here ya specify what memories ya want erased so there's no risk of erasin' somethang ya wanna keep. Then, it uses a small amount of radiation t'capture n' disassemble said memory n' pulls it into the compartment. This here contains the radiation n' controls it n' this here actually traps the bad memory, so say ya don't want the memory gone forever n' want it later, ya can get it back easily."

"Whoa, whoa, hold up." Stan said hastily and paused the presentation. "What do you mean radiation? Are you seriously shooting radiation into your brain?!"

"It's just a small amount, Stanley," Fiddleford said calmly with a smile, like reassuring a scared child of a bug. "It only harms the memory, not the brain, n' it quickly leaves the brain before any lastin' damage can be done."

"But, Fiddleford," Ford said slowly as the horror of what that gun could do seeped into his skin. "That is incredibly dangerous. The number of negative side effects that can occur is… unsettling. Not to mention that even if it is a bad memory, that is still a memory. You're shooting radiation into your mind to take a part of yourself away. You're practically killing a part of yourself." He strained to drive the point home.

Something in Fiddleford snapped, and the twinkle in his eye was gone. "Well then maybe it's a part of me that deserves to die." He said coldly.

The room was silent.

"You don't mean that." Ford said.

"I'm serious, Stanford," Fiddleford said coldly. "Regarding the nightmares, that wasn't even a part of me. Those were false illusions that monster poisoned me with n' this disposed of 'em."

"You mean you already used it?!" Stan yelled in panic.

"Of course I did." Fiddleford answered calmly. "That's how I know that your fears of it not bein' safe are unfounded. I haven't felt this great since before the trip! For once, I can close my eyes n' not be haunted no more!"

"But, Fiddleford, what if it fell into the wrong hands?" Ford pointed out worryingly.

"Exactly! What if some yahoo just started running around wiping people's memories?" Stan asked, siding with his twin.

"That would never happen!" Fiddleford said indignantly. "I would never allow that to happen! If a memory was erased, it would be on their terms! Y'all haven't even stopped to consider all the good that can come from this! Haven't ya ever just wanted to forget somethang?"

"Of course we have." Ford said. It would be a lie to say he might have used the gun the night Hephzie was hit by that truck, or used it to forget Stan when he disappeared, or used it when he and Stan accidentally saw the birthing video. "And, while your intentions are good and I'm sure some good can be done from it, it's just not worth all the bad that can and will come from this."

"Look," Stan said and stood up. "You did what you wanted to do with it, what's done is done, and you seem fine. Let's just get rid of it before anything bad happens."

Fiddleford stood up and held the gun. "Get rid of it?"

Ford nodded and stood up as well. "We have to destroy it."

"No!" Fiddleford held the device close to his chest and yelled, "Ya don't understand! This is one of my most successful inventions! Ya can't just destroy it cuz you're afraid!"

"Fidds, don't be stupid." Stan growled as he squeezed his eyes shut disapprovingly. "Give us the memory gun."

"No! They're my memories n' I'll decide what t'do with 'em!"

"But what about our memories?!" Ford demanded. "How do we know you haven't already used it on us or someone else without consent?!"

Fiddleford looked hurt by Ford's accusation that he would even do such a thing, and Ford regretted it a little, but if it would make him give up the gun… "I… I would never… ya really think I would… that…"

"No," Ford said in a calmer tone and shook his head to clear it from bubbling emotion. "No, I'm sorry. I know you wouldn't. I trust you, but I don't trust what is in your hands. We have to destroy it, Fiddleford."

"No." He said firmly, no longer yelling, but he was firm, and he pocketed the gun in his jacket quickly. "They're my memories n' I'll destroy 'em if I want to."

"YA SON OF A BITCH!"

Fiddleford backed away and Stan and Ford managed to move around the table and grab a charging woman before she punched the living daylights out of the engineer. Each twin grabbed one of her arms with difficulty and actually had to put in a lot of effort to keep her from attacking their friend. Fiddleford looked at Hephzie, hurt and confused, meanwhile she glared daggers at him.

"Hephzibah, darling, please…"

"HOW COULD YA DO THAT?! HOW _COULD_ YA?! WHAT KIND OF SPINELESS COWARD…"

"Hephzie, that's enough!" Stan yelled and held her arm tighter, probably hurting her, but it was her own fault for trying to break free so she could do God only knows what to Fiddleford. "Calm down!"

"Don't ya DARE tell me to calm down, Stanley Pines!" Hephzie growled and nearly elbowed him in the jaw.

"Hephzibah, please," Ford said sternly but he tried to bring some sort to bring some sort of comfort to his upset wife. "I agree that his actions are regrettable, but…"

"Fiddleford, how can ya do that?!" Hephzie demanded as she continued to try to fight her way out of the twins' grip, but they were just as stubborn as her and refused to let her go. "How can ya just destroy your memories?! Was what ya saw so bad it's worth riskin' forgettin' your own wife n' son?! What 'bout Tate?! Ya have any idea how much it hurts to have someone who loved ya n' raise ya not even know your own _name_?!" She yelled to the top of her lungs and her voice cracked with emotion.

"Hephzibah, that's enough!" Ford yelled and Hephzie finally seemed to slow down to a stop. "Stanley and I can handle this." He tried to reassure her in a calmer tone, but Hephzie groaned in her throat, tugged her arms free, and left the kitchen for the master bedroom.

When the door slammed, Ford and Stan looked back at Fiddleford and saw how confused he was. While the twins' response could be reasoned, Hephzie's couldn't, and her main concern had been Madeline and Tate and who else Fiddleford's actions might hurt. "What… what in tarnation did she…"

"She was raised by her grandparents," Ford reminded him, "And when she was twelve, her grandmother suffered a stroke. Since then, Grandma's mind was never the same. She slowly lost her memories. Some days were better than others and it happened slowly, but one day she didn't even know who Hephzibah was. It was like she had died."

Fiddleford was at a loss for words. He knew Hephzie had been raised by her grandparents and that her grandmother had died in the spring of their freshman year of college, but he had no idea how Hephzie had to watch her mother-figure die twice. "I… I had no idea."

"We know," Stan said gloomily as he remembered Grandma Cece. "But… she's right. It hurts, ya know? I mean, she wasn't our grandma, but she… it hurt a little when she didn't even know our names."

Ford nodded in agreement. "But even if it hurts, we don't want to forget her." He added.

"No, never," Stan agreed and turned his attention back to Fiddleford. "We can't risk that happening to you, Fiddleford. It's not worth losing you just so you can forget."

Fiddleford scratched the back of his hand as he thought about it. It was just one bad memory, just one. He didn't want to forget everything! He never wanted to forget his son or his wife or his friends. But they were wrong. There was no risk of that happening. As long as Fiddleford carefully input what he wanted to forget, his anxiety would be cured. He would be fine. He could work on the project like he wanted to, he could enjoy his time with his family and friends, and he could do it all while being free. No, while his friends may be rightfully concerned for Fiddleford, they were wrong. They didn't understand. They wouldn't understand and didn't want to. Well, if he couldn't get them to see his way and be supportive, then he'd just have to try something else.

"You're… you're right." Fiddleford said quietly, his head low. "It ain't worth it. It ain't worth forgettin' Madeline n' Tater, or y'all n' Hephzie."

Ford patted Fiddleford's shoulder and gave them a reassuring smile. "You're doing the right thing, buddy."

"We'll take care of the memory gun, Poindexter." Stan said and jabbed a thumb to the hall. "Why don't ya go catch Hephzie up on everything?"

Ford winced and left the kitchen. "I'll be back."

With Ford gone, leaving Stan alone with Fiddleford, the bigger of the two led the way out of the kitchen. "Let's get this over with. There's a bat by the door we can use, or we can back the Stanmobile over it, or…"

Stan was at the doorway Fiddleford pointed the gun to the back of his head and inputted the memory he wished to have erased. He whispered "I'm sorry" and did it before he changed his mind.

* * *

Stanford slowly opened his bedroom door. The lights were out and the curtains were drawn. Once his eyes adjusted to the darkness, Stanford saw his wife lying on the bed, curled up as she held a pillow and buried her face in it, her body facing the door. She was still and quiet; it was hard to tell if she was asleep or had stayed in that position after screaming into the pillow. Hephzibah was always so strong and tried so hard to control her emotions, but it was clear that Fiddleford had unintentionally struck a nerve.

"Hephzibah?" Stanford said quietly as he closed the door behind him and entered the room. "Hephzibah, darling, are you alright?"

"M'fine." She spoke into the pillow, her voice muffled and hard to hear.

Stanford stood right by the bed and looked down at her sadly. "Hephzie… Fiddleford, he… I don't think he understood what he was doing to himself when he… when he erased his memory. His intentions behind it were good and I'm sure he never meant to hurt anyone, not even himself, but you should know that Stanley and I won't allow it to happen again. In fact, they're destroying the gun right now. Fiddleford is okay and it's over."

Hephzibah mumbled something into her pillow, but Stanford couldn't quite make it out.

"I'm sorry, my dear, what did you say?" He asked gently as he sat on the bed on his knees to be closer to her.

Hephzibah lifted her dry face up from the pillow and rested her chin on it. "Please don't ever forget me." She begged, her voice strained.

Stanford smiled sadly down at her and laid down to be next to her. Hephzibah tossed the pillow aside and curled up beside her husband as he held her close to his chest. "Forget you? Everything I am is because of you." Stanford said quietly and kissed the top of her head.

Hephzibah bit her lip and breathed deeply to keep from crying.


	38. Carnival

Fiddleford smiled proudly at Maddie from a distance as the judges for the pie-contest were tasting her entry and trying to eat it as emotionless as possible to keep from spoiling who the winner was, but it was hard to mute the hum of satisfaction or hide the spark in their eyes. Tate was on Fiddleford's hip and watching the contest, slightly bored and looking forward to the pig races. Maddie saw her family and grinned at them. The boys both waved and then turned around to head towards the pig races.

"Alright, son, let your old man show ya how t'always win a bet on a race." Fiddleford said excitedly.

"Yeah!" Tate hissed, just as excited, and he got down from his father's hold to watch but they held hands as they left the pie contest.

"We'll meet up with ya guys t'see who wins best pie in Gravity Falls." Fiddleford called to Stan, Ford, and Hephzie.

"You mean when Maddie wins!" Stan teased as the McGuckets were on their merry way through the carnival.

Surprisingly enough, it was Ford's idea to go to "Mama Misfortune's Traveling Carnival and Freak Show". Stan had made a snarky comment about it when he saw it in the newspaper one morning and Ford suggested that they take a break from working on the portal and go. As much as he detested being taunted for his abnormally as a child and despite the fact that these cash-grabs were usually fake, sometimes a real anomaly would be mixed in with the fakes; that, and thinking of how much the McGuckets would enjoy it, was enough to make Ford a little excited to go.

Maddie was one of the best cooks the Pines had ever met and certainly the best baker. Her desserts always brought Stan to near-tears, and back in Palo Alto and Tennessee Maddie had won ribbons, trophies, and the occasional cash prize for her baked goods. There was a whole shelf in the McGucket household full of her prizes, right next to the one that showcased Fiddleford's for science. Fiddleford was looking forward to seeing his wife win, to teach Tate the art of race-betting, and to eat fresh kettle corn, so he and his family were more than on board. Hephzie had the day off and she and Stan were just happy to tag along for the ride.

Unfortunetly, the Pines' excitement for the carnival was dead within minutes. While waiting for the pie-contest to start, they had walked around and the first beast they saw was only a poor silverback gorilla with a chicken duct taped to it. While the other gullible residences of Gravity Falls were amazed, Ford was appalled, Stan was irritated, and Hephzie was mournful for the poor gorilla. It quickly became clear that there was no hidden anomaly among the fakes, but Hephzie was too distracted by the poor Crabbit, a rabbit with a dead crab glued to it's back, to keep up with the twins as they browsed for a fun activity to do. A nice water-gun game or a knock-over-the-milk-bottles game or a ring-toss or a pop-the-balloon game always made these events better.

The cool mid-september air made the outing a little more pleasant. Fall was on its way and, to the locals of Gravity Falls, the carnival was a great way to kick-start the season. Ford and Stan strolled to the game section of Mama Misfortune's Traveling Carnival when something caught Stan's eye. In a row of prizes for a classic knock-over-the-milk-bottles game, among stuffed animals and baseball caps, were little fishes in bags of water. At home, they had a tank full of fish that acted mostly for decoration, but Tate would often sit and watch the clownfish and blue tangs swim around in the tank while the adults talked about "boring" stuff. Stan may be a lot of things, but he would like to think that he wasn't boring.

"How mad do you think Fidds and Maddie would be if I got Fidds Jr. a fish?" Stan asked his brother as he approached the booth and gave slapped a quarter in the carnival-worker's hand.

"You're really going to win Tate a fish?" Ford asked with a smile. Stan always had a soft spot for kids.

"Why not? Little squirt keeps begging for a dog. Best way to prove to his folks that he can handle one is to start off small." Stan reasoned as he was handed a baseball and aimed for a tower of milk bottles. "He could even name the little guy Dog!"

Ford chuckled and pocketed his hands in his trenchcoat as he watched his brother aim and throw the ball. It hit the rim of the table, earning Stan a loud, mocking wince from Ford. Stan stared. He never missed, never! He fished around his blue jeans for another quarter to try again. He'll be damned if he walks away from this game without a fish! While Stan tried again (and failed), Ford looked around for something else to keep him entertained, guessing that his brother was going to be busy for awhile. His eye caught a tall tent with a hand on top and a long line that waited to be allowed inside.

What better way to confuse a palm reader than to show her a six-fingered hand? With a sudden thrill to expose an old crone for the fraud she most definitely was, Ford got in the long line that was occupied by the most gullible people on the face of the Earth. Maybe Stan's claims that the people of this town were literally the dumbest in the world were valid. Literally.

After some time of waiting and entertaining himself by remembering the latest episode of Noches Llorosos, Ford walked into a dark tent that smelled strongly of incense. Waiting at a small table was an old lady with long, ratty hair, a big chin and nose, beady eyes, and bony hands with long nails. She wore no jewelry or head-piece as many gypsies or palm-readers might, but she did wear a poncho or some kind that was hard to see in the dark. A cage of collected, severed hands was behind her, but Ford prayed that the small amount of light provided was playing tricks on him.

When Ford sat, the old crone quickly grabbed his hands and asked in a scratchy voice, "What took you so long, Sixer?"

A chill went down his spine. How did she know his childhood nickname? Well, it wasn't a particularly hard name to come up with - anyone with half a brain cell could come up with the nickname after seeing Ford's hands - but that name was usually reserved for Stan's use, not even Hephzie called Ford Sixer. (Bill did, though.) Before the young scientist could come up with a smart response, the crone let go of his hands and pulled out a deck of tarot cards from her poncho and lined them up on the table. Ford made a mental note to remember them vividly so he could record them later if he wished to catalogue the day in his journal.

When the old lady saw the cards, she let out a fearful shriek, one that made Ford jump a little in his seat, and she gave him a look of deep sympathy. "Someone very close to you is deceiving you. You have chosen a wrong allie." She said gravely. "You will live two lives and both of them too short… unless you change now."

As Ford gave her a skeptical look, completed with a raised eyebrow, she turned in her seat to the cage of severed hands (there was no denying that was what it was) and she pulled one out that bore a ring. She tugged it off of the hand and threw it back in the cage and shut the door before any of the hands could escape. The old crone then turned back to Ford and held out the ring to him.

"Here, you'll need this. When this is blue, you may pull through. When this is black, you can't turn back." She said to him.

Ford was less inclined to take the ring. He knew his friends and family well enough to know that no one would ever deceive him like the old crone was claiming. Not to mention that this ring could be cursed for all Ford knew, and how would Hephzie feel about him taking a ring from an old lady?

The crone then snarled, "Just take it. I can promise that the misses won't be mad."

Okay, so she saw Ford's wedding ring. She's a very good fraud, trying to distract him with poems and fears. Fear clouds the mind, and it's an excellent way to fool people, making them think irrationally and grab ahold of something that will (supposively) save them.

Ford swiped the ring and pocketed it, determined more so now than ever before to prove that this crone was a fake, and he growled, "Skip the poems and get to the palm reading."

The crone sighed and took his right hand in both of her own. Ford and Stan's mother was a phone physic, and a false one at that, but every so often she would have a client face-to-face, either her old cat Snowball or her sons or Hephzie. For some odd reason, Hephzie loved to get her palm read by Ma when she was a kid. Ford would sometimes listen to Ma's fortune telling, making claims such as "a long lifeline" and "a brave spirit". Unlike her paying customers, Ma only ever said positive things about Hephzie's palms, whereas most physics and palm-readers told of negative things to keep their customers listening. Ford braced himself for just that and was ready to expose the fraud in front of him. He wasn't about to sit uncomfortably in this smelly, dark tent for nothing.

"Hm. You have a trigger finger. You should think before you shoot." The crone observed as she studied Ford's hand. "Ah. Broken and repaired relationships seem to be an occurring pattern for you. You should try to keep it up. Long wisdom. You're too smart for your own good, Sixer. Hm. A broken life line. It means it ends suddenly and starts again later. And, this one's a crossroad. You will have to make a choice very soon, young man, and if you choose wrong, you'll never be yourself again."

"And my extra finger?" Ford questioned, guessing that this palm-reader was avoiding bringing it up.

"Oh, it most certainly makes you special." The crone answered. "If you aren't doing anything later, I could elaborate over drinks. Or perhaps your brother would be interested?"

Ford blushed furiously. "No, thank you." He said and quickly left the tent. Enough is enough.

Blinking in the sunlight, Ford pocketed his hands in his trenchcoat to try to find his family and regroup. Out of the corner of his eye, Ford saw Stan still trying to win the fish for Tate, so he decided to go try and find Hephzie. He started to wander back to the section of the carnival full of fake anomalies as he allowed himself to think about what the palm-reader had said.

Ford wasn't too worried over her use of the name Sixer and her knowing that he was married. She predicted that someone was deceiving him. No, she was just trying to scare him. Hephzie, Stan, and Fiddleford would never do that, and Bill would certainly never do that. Ford trusted them. At least that's what he told himself. The trigger finger could be taken literally or figuratively. Either way that was very stereotypical advice to give. Broken relationships that have been repaired? That was just a part of life. You meet people, life gets in the way and friendships are broken, but if it's worth it then friendships are mended. Stan taught him that. Ford considered her remark about being too smart a compliment and the broken lifeline didn't make sense. The crossroad? Well, life is full of tough choices. Another stale piece of advice that was obvious, like something someone would find in a fortune cookie.

No, the whole thing was nonsense. Frustrated that Ford had allowed that old crone to make him so uncomfortable that he never got a chance to expose her (a clever tactic that Ford had no choice but to give credit to), he looked for his wife. He was surprised when he found her at the edge of the carnival and talking into her black-leather jacket. Ford slowly approached Hephzie and braced himself for whatever trouble she was causing.

"Hephzibah, what are you…"

Hephzie turned to show her husband that she had the crabbit in her jacket, free from the crab and now trembling in her arms. The little white bunny nuzzled in her warmth and she grinned proudly. "Surprise."

Ford didn't know if he should laugh or scold Hephzie. "Hephzibah! We… no… what did you do?!" He hissed to keep her from being caught with a stole rabbit.

"The poor little thang was miserable, Stanford!" Hephzie explained in a low voice. "Bein' trapped in a cage n' tapped to a dead crab like that… he's not even a domestic bunny, he's a wild rabbit! They caught him n'... I just couldn't leave him there."

Ford rolled his eyes with a smile and shook his head. "Sweetheart, it's an animal."

"I'm gonna say that next time ya get up n' arms 'bout a new anomaly." Hephzie sneered and sat the rabbit down so it could hop off into the woods. "Go on, little guy, be free. Go home."

Hephzie watched the little rabbit slowly towards the habitat proudly with her husband by her side. Ford wrapped an arm around her, admiring her soft spot for animals, but their faces both dropped when a hawktopus suddenly snatched the rabbit up for dinner.

After a moment of silence, Hephzie closed her wide mouth before a bug could fly into it. "Well, fuck me backwards." She sighed and started her way back to the festivities.

"Ah, the wondrous circle of life." Ford chuckled and took Hephzie's right hand into his left.

Hephzie squeezed his hand back and they went to join Stan at the games. They had just walked passed the ring-toss when Stan ran up to them with a little goldfish in his hand. "Alright, let's go."

"You won Tate's fish?" Ford asked.

"More like I threw a ball at the carney's head and took the little guy while he was unconscious."

"Stanley!"

"What?! It's his fault for rigging the game!"

"Don't be mad at him for your bad aim."

"I don't have bad aim!"

"I cleaned the bathroom yesterday, Knucklehead." Hephzie teased as she led the way back to the baked goods. "Ya definitely have bad aim."

While Ford laughed and Stan turned red, they passed the Ferris Wheel and saw Fiddleford working on the gears, with his son passing him tools to help out, and a bald-headed carney with tattoos all over his head was chatting with their friend. Stan hid the fish behind his back and called, "Hey! Tater Tot!"

Tate turned to the familiar voice and grinned at the three adults. He caught Fiddleford's approving eye and the four-year-old boy ran to his surrogate uncles and aunt while his father talked to the carney. "Hi, Uncle Stan, Uncle Ford n' Auntie Hephzie!"

"Look what I gotcha, Twerp Jr." Stan said as he squatted his knees to be eye-level with the boy and he pulled out the bagged goldfish.

Tate's eyes were hidden by his hair and hat, but his grin was big enough to guess that his eyes were big, too. "Wow! A fishie! Thanks, Uncle Stan!"

"You're welcome, kiddo." Stan said as he handed the fish and messed with his green ball cap. "I bet if ya take real good care of this little guy, your parents will finally get ya that dog."

Tate grinned hopefully that Stan. "Ya really think so?"

"I know so!" Stan said and stood up straight.

"Whatcha gonna call him?" Hephzie asked the boy.

Tate held the fish up to his eyes and studied him for a bit. "He looks kinda grumpy… I like him! I'll call him Oscar!"

Hephzie laughed. "I bet he's grumpy from bein' trapped in a borin' ole bag. When we get outta here, we'll getcha a bowl n' give him a castle so he'll have a nice place to live."

"Yeah!" Tate said excitedly and ran to his father, who had just handed the young man a piece of paper and then went to join his friends and son. Ford guessed that it was instructions to prevent further incidents with the giant wheel that Stan was terrified of. "Daddy! Daddy! Say hello t'Oscar!"

Fiddleford looked down at his son's new pet and smiled. "Well, hello there, feller. That was mighty nice of Stan t'get that for ya."

"Uncle Stan that if I take good care of him I could getta dog!"

Fiddleford glared up at his friend while Stan blushed a little. He needed to teach the kid to not rat out on people. "Did he now?"

"Aw, c'mon, Fidds." Stan chuckled as he held his hands up in surrender. "Every kid should have a pet. We had Shanklin the possum and Sebastian the hermit crab."

"I still can't believe Shanklin ate poor Sebastian." Ford recalled. While the twins shared their pets, Shanklin was primarily Stan's and Ford had grown attached to Sebastian.

Hephzie chuckled nervously. "Yeah, 'bout that…"

"Say, did Maddie win first prize yet?" Stan asked loudly and led the way to the baked goods.

"In second place, for her delicious blueberry pie, Ms. Susan Wentworth!" An announcer called to the small crowd and a judge placed a big blue ribbon on the pie. Stan offered to hold Tate's new fish so he could sit on Fiddleford's shoulders and watched who won first prize. "And in first place, for her outstanding apple pie and winner of the hundred dollar cash prize, Mrs. Madeline McGucket!"

Maddie happily accepted the golden trophy and envelope full of cash, but she was more proud of the loud cheer she got from her family and friends. Tate screamed to the top of his lungs, making Fiddleford's ears ring, and clapped for his mother. Hephzie, Ford, and Stan also cheered and clapped, except Stan didn't clap with his hands full of fish, but he whooped and hollered as loud as he wanted. Maddie quickly joined them and got herself a kiss from her husband.

"Now where's the rest of that pie?" Stan asked as he rubbed his hands together. "I'm starved!"

Maddie laughed and pulled out a wrapped up-plate that held a piece of pie from her purse. "I saved the last slice just for ya."

Stan grinned with huge eyes and began to eat the blissful dessert. No wonder Maddie won first prize!

Fiddleford, remembering something, turned to Ford and said, "Oh! Before I forget again, I bought ya somethang that I thought ya'd like."

Ford smiled curiously at his kind friend, but that smile dropped when Fiddleford pulled out a hideous looking gourd from his suit jacket. It was rather large, about the size of a small pumpkin, and was a light-orange with yellow warts and bumps and it also had a long stem. Ford wasn't sure if it was supposed to be a gag-gift or not, but given Fiddleford's usual gift-giving habits his intentions were most likely genuine.

"Well," Ford said as he tried to pick his smile back up, and judging by the look on Hephzie's face, he was doing a decent job at pretending to be pleased with the ugly gift. "Thank you, buddy. It's definitely abnormal."

Fiddleford grinned happily as Ford took the squash. "That's why I thought ya'd like it! I found it in a barrel full of rejected gourds. Probably best not t'cook with this, but it'd make a great fall decoration."

Decorating the house for fall must be a southern tradition. Ford never did see the sense in decorating the house unless it was for a holiday, but he was never going to complain about Maddie's beautiful centerpiece or wreath or many fall colors or the small field of pumpkins and squashes on their doorstep.

"Plus, hey!" Fiddleford laughed as he was continuing to joke and tell about the gift. "It kinda looks like ya!"

Ford looked at the gourd and tried to take Fiddleford's comment as a compliment. The warts did scaringly resemble a face, especially with a huge spot looking very much like a nose. "I suppose I did inherit Pa's nose." Ford chuckled and tucked the gourd under his arm and held Hephzie's hand again.

* * *

Ford did place the gourd in the thinking parlor. He used to spend a lot of time in there when it came to paperwork and journal writing, but since the beginning of the portal, most of his work had been done down in the basement with Fiddleford and Stan. With the pleasant changing of the weather, however, it was far too tempting to do calculations and paperwork in the brightly lit thinking parlor with the window open while sipping his morning coffee. Ford was doing just that when he heard a soft moan.

Ford lifted his head and looked around, guessing that Stan or Hephzie wasn't feeling well, but he saw no one and had no further evidence that either one of them was hurt or sick. Ford resumed his work, deciding that the wind had howled wrong when it blew in through the open window, but soon he heard it again. Ford looked around once more and his eyes stopped on the squash. Maybe the coffee hadn't kicked in yet, but Ford could have sworn the makeshift look on its face had changed.

Over the week, the squash changed scaringly. The face definitely changed every day, it started to sprout warted seeds, and something resembling an arm was growing out from its back. Even Stan agreed that the gourd was too creepy to keep, so in order to avoid hurting Fiddleford's feelings, they got rid of it in the dead of night like it was a dead body.

* * *

Tate really liked Oscar the fish. He took good care of him and gave him a big bowl to swim around in with a plant, a little castle, and a bunch of pebbles. Tate fed him every day after breakfast and spent most mornings watching him swim around and talking to it. Maddie and Fiddleford would walk by his room and hear Tate talking about whatever was on his mind to Oscar and smiled amusingly at their son. Maybe getting him a fish was a good idea. Stan certainly grinned proudly when Fiddleford told the twins about how well Tate was handling his new responsibility.

One day, while Fiddleford was reading the newspaper and Maddie was doing dishes, they heard a scream from their son and little hurried footsteps. They looked up in time to see little Tate running in terrified.

"I tried t'pet Oscar, n' he was slimy n' cool, but then he bit me!" Tate yelled and ran to his mother and hugged her tightly around the legs.

"Aw, Tater, I'm sure he didn't bite ya." Fiddleford said calmly as he folded his newspaper.

"Yes he did! It hurt!" Tate cried into Maddie's skirt as he rubbed his back and couldn't keep the small smile off of her face.

"Alright, let's take a look, see." Fiddleford said and led the way to Tate's room.

Maddie picked up their son and followed. The fishbowl sat on Tate's nightstand right next to his bed. Fiddleford stood in front of the bowl while Maddie held Tate on the opposite side of the nightstand from the bed.

"Maybe he was tryin' t'give ya a kissie, sweetie." Maddie suggested softly.

"No, he hates me." Tate said firmly. "He's a meanie!"

Fiddleford chuckled and said, "Now, Tater, fish like this normally don't bite. Here, I'll show ya." Fiddleford stuck his finger in the bowl and Oscar didn't move. "See? He's perfectly… son of a…!"

The fish did, in fact, bite Fiddleford's finger, so hard in fact it refused to let go, and Fiddleford accidently swatted it off his finger and onto the carpeted floor of Tate's bedroom. The fish didn't move again.

"DADDY KILLED OSCAR!" Tate yelled and held his mother tighter.

"Fiddleford!" Maddie scolded.

Fiddleford swallowed nervously. "H-He's fine, y'all. He just needs t'be put back in the bowl." Fiddleford scooped Oscar up and plopped him back in the bowl, but the fish landed head-first on the rock and was stone-still as he was stuck up-right.

"Oh, Fiddleford." Maddie sighed as two little air bubbles escaped from Oscar's dead body.

* * *

Fiddleford later took Tate to the store for some father-son-bonding time and they picked out a new fish named Banjo. After hearing the amusing story, Ford asked to perform an autopsy on Oscar's dead body. It turned out the carnival had given away fish that were hybrids of goldfish and piranhas. Ford couldn't help but laugh so hard his ribs ached when Fiddleford rounded on Stan and yelled,

"Ya gave my son a piranha?!"


	39. Shifty

During the month of September, the leaves had changed color. Now, in October, they were falling. Meanwhile, the portal's structure was being made wonderfully and the control room was also coming along great.

With the progression of the portal and becoming in need of Bill's guidance more and more, Ford saw the Muse in his dreams frequently. Rather than friendly chit chat, most conversation these days were over hot tea as Ford gave a report on the progress and Bill congratulated his friend and delivered more instructions. Ford would then wake up energized and encouraged to keep going. The last month hadn't been easy for the Pines' family and so it was nice to know that something was going right.

Gravity Falls was excitingly preparing for it's favorite holiday: Halloween (it was actually tied with Summerween). Hephzie had been busy at the hospital as she had what she called the "Valentine's Day rush"; babies that were conceived from New Years' to Valentine's Day were being born from the end of August to the middle of October, making early fall one of Hephzie's busiest times of the year, so as the chaos of new life was dying down at work, Hephzie was free to enjoy this time of year of cozy sweaters, hot chocolate, leaf piles, and Maddie's to-die-for pumpkin pie.

About a week before Halloween over lunch, however, Fiddleford brought up an interesting topic.

"Say, Stans, have y'all given much thought t'what might happen if we're successful in openin' the portal?" He asked as munched on a ham sandwich Maddie had packed for the boys and sent Fiddleford to work with.

Stan shrugged, his mouth to full of good food to answer without spitting ham everywhere.

"What do you mean, Fiddleford?" Ford asked and turned away from the portal in his desk chair to talk to his friend.

"Well, if you're right 'bout weirdness leakin' into this dimension, what if more weirdness leaks in when we open the portal?" Fiddleford asked. "What if we're able t'capture these new critters from a world we know nothin' about? I know some of the critters here in Gravity Falls are relatively harmless, but others… aren't." He finished with, his mind going back to the Gremloblin.

Stan swallowed and said, "Twerp's gotta point."

"We would need a safe place to store and study these creatures," Ford thought out loud, holding his cleft chin. "And I don't feel comfortable with having a small zoo of potentially dangerous animals under our house."

"You're cool with having a gateway to other worlds under our beds, but not locked up anomalies?" Stan teased, his arms crossed over his toned chest as he leaned back in his chair.

"We'll have complete control over the portal." Ford reasoned. "You can hardly control wildlife."

"Fair enough." Stan said with a shrug. "Okay, so you're saying we need a new lab just for these new anomalies and studies?"

"Ideally, yes." Fiddleford said. "It should be somewhere away from the townsfolk so no one would get hurt n' it wouldn't interfere with our other projects. An underground laboratory of some sort, with the utmost precautions in paranormal activity."

"Right, we'd hate for some creepy… I dunno, bird-person to get ahold of your… what did ya call that weird cinder block phone?" Stan asked.

"My cellular telephone!" Fiddleford said proudly and pulled it out of his suit jacket,

"Yup, that's the one."

"As much as I hate to delay progress on the portal," Ford said as he gave the incomplete gateway a sideways glance. "You're both right. A secret lab is undoubtedly necessary to prepare for the opening of the portal. After lunch, let's scout the area for any possible locations."

* * *

They found the perfect hiding spot behind the cabin. Where massive oak trees have been growing for hundreds of years, possibly thousands, Fiddleford had found a tall tree with a hollow trunk, the perfect secret entrance for the hideout. Though the whole thing was Fiddleford's idea and he seemed to be taking charge of this project, Ford allowed himself to be a little giddy about having a secret lair. What scientist wouldn't be excited about it? Stan was just excited to have a bomb shelter for the apocalypse, and while Fiddleford was on board with the idea, Ford constantly reminded the two that this would be a lab, not a bomb shelter. Still, the fact remained that if the Soviet Union ever did attack the U.S., this lair would be the best place to hide their families.

The hardest part of the project was digging out the space for the lair. Fiddleford insisted he could do it on his own, but Stan caught a lumberjack or two near the hidden entrance, but when Stan asked Boyish Dan if he had taken up any extra projects from Fiddleford, he said no and no other lumberjacks seemed to know anything about their latest project. Still, Stan was suspicious.

After several weeks of hard work, the bunker was nearly completed, the hardest part done, anyways. Fiddleford had taken the time to enjoy Halloween with his family (Tate had gone as a scarecrow that year and had a great time trick-or-treating with his parents and visiting the Pines' house for some movies and candy afterwards), but apart from that he worked endlessly on the bunker. Ford wondered if his friend would sleep better at night knowing there was a safe haven in case of emergencies.

When it was just one week until Thanksgiving, most of the four rooms had been completed. The first room was the actual bunker, acting as a bedroom for overnight studies or a place to sleep during the apocalypse. Stan stocked the shelves with food to last for fifty years if there was no more than six people in the bunker. Somewhere among the chaos, Ford lost Fiddleford's SHMEZ dispenser and told Fiddleford that Stan did it.

The second room was a security room to keep unwanted guests from going any further and to keep the creatures on the other side from leaving. It was a complex trap that Fiddleford claimed was inspired by the Russian arcade game "Soviet Blocks", but Ford thought it looked more like his Cubic's Cube. Only Ford, Stan, and Fiddleford knew the combination.

The third room was the observation room for the storage room. The observation room was soundproof and contained many hidden cameras, even showing the hidden entrance to keep an eye out for followers. Bridged by a decontamination unit, was the storage room, the fourth room and the whole purpose behind the lair. Surrounded by bedrock and steel in the dirt to make the walls impenetrable, this storage room held contamination units that could keep the dangerous anomalies frozen for two-hundred years. Fiddleford discussed the idea of freezing one's self in order to avoid danger in the case of an emergency, but Stan just sneered and said that it sounded like something out of a bad sci-fi movie.

With so much done in so little time, the men took a break from work to enjoy Thanksgiving. The Pines usually ate Thanksgiving at dinnertime, seeing how Hephzie usually worked at the hospital during the holiday so parents could be with their kids and there was no point visiting Shermie since he spent his Thanksgiving with the in-laws, but this year Maddie and Stan pulled out all the stops for a huge feast. The McGucket household was full of good food and good company and they all revelled with how much they had to be thankful for. The year 1982 had been long and full of hard work, but it was all going to be paid off very soon.

After Thanksgiving, the men tried to get as much work done outside as possible. Winter would soon be here, but it seemed to be late this year. According to the Pines, that meant that they would get a lot of snow and freezing temperatures at the beginning of 1983, so they had to take advantage of the sunshine and not-freezing temperatures. One morning, while digging, Ford came across a rock that was by no means a rock. It was light blue and seemed fragile. He tenderly picked it up and concluded by i';s shape that it was an egg, about the size of his coffee cup.

Ford sat the egg down to try to sketch it, but he marveled when it shivered and a baby hatched. This maggot-like creature with pink eyes and tiny teeth landed it big, round eyes on the empty coffee cup besides it, and then it transformed itself into an identical replica of the mug. Ford stared at it, excitingly droted it down in his journal, and sat on his knees in front of it as he watched it. The hatchling soon got bored of being nothing more than a mug and changed back to its original form. It looked up at Ford with those big, pink eyes, and Ford looked back at it with a soft smile. It was actually kind of cute.

"Hello." He said to it and offered his hand to it like he would a cat.

The hatchling looked at his hand for a minute, and the scientist wondered if it was going to transform, but instead it nuzzled its head into Ford's palm and made an odd purring noise. He scratched under its chin and smiled at his latest discovery.

"Fordsie, ya 'round here?" Hephzie's voice could be heard.

"Over here, darling." Ford called back and turned his head to see his wife approach.

"Great!" Hephzie said as she approached and she ruffled his hair, seeing how he was up to her waist while on his knees. "The Stan-cakes are ready! Ya comin'?"

"Sure," Ford said and averted his eye back to the purring hatchling. "First I have to put this little guy away somewhere safe."

Hephzie looked down at the little baby and grinned as she bent her knees and swatted next to her husband, one hand on his back. "Aw, what is it?" She cooed.

"See for yourself." Ford said and got an idea. He took off his glasses and placed them besides the hatchling. It looked at the new item, and then transformed into a pair of glasses.

Hephzie gasped and admired the new anomaly. "Sweet Lord! A shapeshifter! We haven't come across anythang like it so far, have we?"

Ford shook his head with an exciting grin. "No, we haven't! This is brand new! And it'll be the first thing we put in the bunker."

"I still don't know how I feel 'bout y'all cagin' 'em up n' keepin' 'em away from fresh air n' sunlight." Hephzie said. She had made it clear the last few weeks about her feelings towards the bunker. While she thought a fallout shelter was a great idea, she hated the idea of caged up animals. Why else would she free that poor rabbit at the fair and be tempted to do the same to the gorilla? Hephzie also had a habit of using her doctorate to treat anomalies, like that cowl with the broken wing three years ago or that gnome that had been caught entangled in soda rings.

Ford sighed, getting tired of her bickering about the subject, and said as he slipped his glasses back on, "Hephzibah, I promise that we will be as gentle and humane with our experiments as possible. And, if the creatures can be trusted, we will make sure they get their fair share if fresh air and sunlight."

Hephzie also sighed, not sure if she could trust Ford's word, but he had been very good thus far about keeping his promises. Hephzie held out her hand to the second pair of sunglasses, which changed back into the shapeshifter, and it slowly nuzzled itself into her hand. She gently scooped up the baby and held it close to her chest. Ford watched as Hephzie gently scratched under its chin and the hatchling curled up beside her warm body as she stood up straight.

"Let's get this little guy somethang to eat." Hephzie cooed.

"Shifty."

Hephzie looked at Ford as he stood up and smiled at how affectionate his wife was with the new creature. "What?"

"That's what we'll call him." Ford explained and collected his journal and mug. "Shifty."

* * *

Shifty was unlike any anomaly the Pines have ever come across. While some anomalies were less intelligent and seemed more animal (like the cowl or the scampfires or the stomach-faced ducks), some were just as intelligent as humans (like the Manotaurs or the sirens or the gnomes). It seemed as if Shifty's intelligence, when he got older, would be just as high as an average human's and therefore seemed a little less humane to lock him away in a cage all the time.

Ford had a soft spot for Hephzie. He didn't spoil her, but he wanted her to be happy and he took the promises he made to his wife seriously, so he worked hard to treat Shifty with respect while also meeting the demands of Fiddleford and Stan, who both seemed to be more keen on locking him up or freezing him. Fiddleford saw Shifty more as livestock than a potential pet, meanwhile Stan just gave Shifty an uneasy look. Both men's instincts were telling them not to trust this anomaly.

Over the week, Ford performed several tests and allowed Hephzie to be of some assistance on her days off. She would hold Shifty still and hum to him when Ford drew blood to scan his DNA and she often praised and scratched Shifty, calling him a "good boy" if he could transform correctly, feeding him his favorite food (Fiddleford's beans), and even seeing to it that he was comfortable at night. Ford found Hephzie's affection a little unnecessary, but he supposed that her thirst for a pet had hit it's breaking point and she was enjoying having the new anomaly around.

Shifty had a habit of transforming to a puppy and wagging his tail when he was happy and a prickly sea urchin when he was sad. Ford showed him children's cards of many animals and Shifty always matched them perfectly. The scientist was careful to not to show him any carnivorous animals and, at first, he wanted to wear a mask and have Hephzie hide her face so Shifty couldn't imitate them, but one deadly look from her told Ford that covering their faces was going too far and so he performed the experiments with an exposed face.

Every day, Shifty grew bigger and bigger. By the end of the week, Ford had to upgrade him from a small kennel box to a fully grown steel cage. One night, while working, Ford heard a high-pitched voice that reminded him of a parrot.

"Beans."

Ford turned to face Shifty and asked, "E-Excuse me?"

"Beans!" Shifty repeated. "Beans!"

Ford grinned and opened the cage to hold the shapeshifter. "Ha! Well, look at that! You can speak, huh? Good for you!" Ford opened a can of beans for Shifty and began feeding him spoonfuls like a baby bird.

Hephzie came down the next day and was floored to have Shift call her "Mama", as she always referred to herself in front of him. Ford couldn't help but smile when she hugged Shifty and congratulated him on his accomplishment, and he had mixed feelings when Shifty's next word was "Papa", a title Hephzie used for Ford in front of the young anomaly. Ford decided that he could live with it and he happily scratched under Shifty's chin.

Stan busied himself stalking the shelves for the apocalypse and singing that they were all gonna die when the married couple shared the news later that evening in the bunker, but Fiddleford, who was hanging up a map of Gravity Falls, strongly reminded the two that they were only keeping Shifty to later test the cryogenic tube.

"What?!" Hephzie yelled and held Shifty close to her chest, who was now bigger than Tate, but still enjoyed to be held. "We can't freeze him!"

Fiddleford gave his friend a stern look and said, "Hephzie, he's a wild anomaly, not a pet. We have a responsibility t'keep the town safe."

"But Shifty's not dangerous!" Hephzie protested. "He's just a sweet boy!"

"No, he's a dangerous avid learner n' an uncontrollable shapeshifter!" Fiddleford said firmly as the creature curled up closer to Hephzie and hugged her around the neck like a monkey, his pink eyes glued to Fiddleford.

"Well, humans are dangerous, too! We, as a species, have proven to be the most dangerous beings on the planet! Should we be frozen or locked away?"

"Look, if ya wanna join the other hippies at the Woodstick Festival next summer or become a vegan, that's your decision, but the bottom line is that when we're done experimentin' with that thang, he's gonna be put into stasis n' locked away where he won't hurt nobody." Fiddleford said coldly.

Ford stepped in between his best friend and his wife. "Alright, enough, you two."

"How can ya be so cold n' heartless, Fidds?" Hephzie asked as she held Shifty tightly, like a mother protecting her baby. "He's just a hatchlin'! Why ya gotta talk 'bout him like he's not even here?"

Fiddleford rolled his eyes, as if this argument was too stupid to continue. "I'm just bein' logical, Hephzibah. Ya should be, too."

"Okay, enough!" Stan said firmly to end the fighting before it got worse since his brother wasn't doing the best job. "Hephzie, go tuck the squirt in for the night. As for what we're doing with him… well, we'll cross that bridge when we get there."

Hephzie huffed and marched off with Shifty in her arms from the bunker to the storage room. Hephzie petted the top of the shapeshifter's head as he sat quietly in her arms. She began to hum to him as she opened the cage and tucked shifty into a cozy blanket Hephzie had brought down for him. When she laid Shifty on the floor of the cage, he asked,

"Who am I?"

Hephzie stared. In her mind, not only did the poor creature have to go through a hard beginning, being labeled as a monster, but being a shapeshifter left him questioning who he was. His origins were unknown, his birth family unknown, too, even the same of his species was a mystery. Hephzie petted his head lovingly and said quietly, "You're Shifty. You're different, but that's not somethang to fear. That's somethang to celebrate. Now, try to get some sleep."

Shifty's eyes were still open and wide, so Hephzie sat on the cold floor by his open cage and pulled out her golden harmonica from her pocket. Not that any of her friends or family knew this, but at work at the hospital, nearly every day, Hephzie played that harmonica to the crying newborn babies and most of them would settle down by the end of the first song. That very instrument calmed down a scared shapeshifter and sent him to sleep.

* * *

Ford was working late in the lab. Fiddleford had been in the bunker with Shifty while Ford was in the observation room. Stan wasn't with them, cooking dinner back at the house, and Hephzie was at work. Fiddleford walked into the room and coughed into his fist. Ford looked up from his notes when he heard how hoarse Fiddleford sounded.

"Are you okay, buddy?" Ford asked.

"My throat hurts." Fiddleford admitted to with a voice that confirmed the fact. "I was hoping you had a cure in that journal of yours."

Ford gave it a moment's thought, but Journal 3 most certainly didn't have such a cure. Zombification, sure, but not a sore throat. "No, I'm sorry, there's nothing for a sore throat in the journal." Ford lowered his head and resumed his work "There's some cough drops in the first aid kit. Or maybe you could go home for the night and have some hot tea."

"No." Fiddleford said hoarsely. "I saw it in there once. Can I just look at it? Please?"

Ford gave his friend a pitiful glance and sighed as he stood up and left the desk. If letting him see the journal would prove Ford right… "Alright, I think I left it in the bunker. I'll go get it."

Ford carefully walked through the security room and into the bunker. The door closed behind him when a small sound passed by his ears. He listened carefully and could have sworn if was muffled screaming coming from the cabinet. He opened it cautiously and was astounded to find Fiddleford tied up and gagged with a sock.

"Fiddleford!" Ford gasped and got on his knees to untie his friend, who was so full of anxiety that he was in the middle of a panic attack and had gone mute. "Fiddleford, can you hear me? Say something, buddy!"

Fiddleford didn't answer and stayed curled up, even with his hands and legs unbounded. Ford looked at Shifty's steel cage and sighed to himself when his depressing theory was confirmed.

"I"m so sorry, Fiddleford." Ford sighed as he ran a hand through his brown hair. "I should have listened to you when I had the chance."

The shapeshifter was still waiting. Fiddleford was right. He was dangerous. Ford had tried so hard to raise him and love him in a way he hadn't had the chance to before. He had allowed himself to fall for a nice dream of he and his wife raising a life together and raising it right, but they had somehow failed. It had to be Ford's fault. Hephzie had been perfect in every way. Maybe if Ford had been better about treating it more like a child rather than a monster. Or maybe they should have never given such a wild anomaly the chance to begin with.

There was no time to feel guilty. Ford could do that after they were safe. He formulated a plan by himself and grabbed some gold spray paint and a manual on plumbing. He quickly painted a sloppy six-fingered hand on the journal, just good enough to fool anyone who didn't give the book a closer look. Ford had to be careful and swift. He had to do this quickly. He pocketed the book in his trenchcoat and left for the room in which the false Fiddleford waited.

Ford shoved his emotions downward and focused on the task at hand. He entered the observation room to find the false Fiddleford gripping the chair he sat on so hard the arms of the chair were bending under his grip.

"Now I remember!" Ford announced and walked passed the false Fiddleford and into the storage room. "I left it in here, hold on, let me..." He quietly placed the book in one of the cryogenic tubes. "Ah, ha! There it is!"

Ford walked back to give the false Fiddleford permission to have the book, but the shapeshifter darted passed him for it. Ford then ran to the observation room and slammed the red button with his fist. The shapeshifter transformed to its true form and screamed. It let out this awful, high-pitched scream that made Ford visibly wince. The shapeshifter's pink eyes were glued to him, and it spoke in a deep voice in which he had never heard before.

"So, is it my turn now? My turn to be cataloged and disposed of?! You used to care, to be amazed of what I can do, but now that I've stopped peaking your interest, you're going to freeze me, lock me away, walk away, and find the next…"

"That's not true." Ford snapped, unwilling to be moved by the anomaly's last desperate attempt to make him feel guilty about this. He can feel guilty about Fiddleford all he wants, but he wasn't going to feel guilty about freezing a dangerous creature.

The shapeshifter's mouth curled upward into an ugly smile. "Oh, is it? You're telling me you've never gotten bored with something and neglected it?" And then the evil creature used it's last bit of energy to transform into a teenage-Stan, in his boxing gear, and raised a gloved fist to pound on the glass, but right before Ford's eyes he froze solid.

The young scientist breathed heavy from the running and the overwhelming fear of seeing his twin brother being frozen alive. What had Ford done wrong with Shifty to cause all this? He could feel remorseful over his formal pet later. He had to take care of Fiddleford.

Ford closed the doors behind him on his way to the bunker. Fiddleford was still shaking and cradling in the cabinet. Ford took one of his arms and draped it over his shoulders to help Fiddleford walk. As they both started on their way up the steps for the night air, they passed the broken cage that glistened in the small moonlight.

Ford had to half-carry, half-drag Fiddleford to the cabin. They came through the door to find Stan and Hephzie watching Brother Husbands. Hephzie helped Fiddleford lie on the couch and Stan ran to get a wet washcloth and a cup of hot tea.

As Hephzie petted Fiddleford's aching head and he started to hiss in ache, she looked up at Ford. "What happened?"

Hephzie saw the pain and regret in Ford's eyes and it didn't take long to seduce what happened down in the bunker that night. "F-Fiddleford was right about Shifty. He broke out of his steel cage, and… and he gagged and tied Fiddleford up and then locked him in a cabinet. He tried to steal my journal my impersonating Fiddleford. If I had let him out of the bunker, there's no telling what he would have done. I had no choice; I had found the real Fiddleford and I knew what Shifty had done. I… I had no choice. I had to freeze him."

Hephzie sat by Fiddleford's head on the floor and held her knees. "This… this is all my fault."

Ford was instantly by her side, close to Fiddleford's ribs, and wrapped an arm around her. "No, darling, this isn't your fault."

"Yeah, it is." Hephzie said firmly. "I should've listened to him. I… I called him… I can't believe I chose our friend over…"

"Hey, hey," Ford said and rubbed her arm. "Don't be melodramatic. You've always had a heart for animals and, really, anything smaller than yourself. Why do you think you're a obstetrician and the best one in Gravity Falls?"

Hephzie chuckled at her husband's attempt to make her feel better with flattery. She rested her head on his shoulder. "You're wrong, but thanks. I'm just sorry for what happened to Fidds."

Ford squeezed Hephzie a little. "I know. I am, too."

The two stood up and Fiddleford started to become more grounded. His vision cleared and the first thing he saw was Ford and Hephzie smiling down at him with sad eyes.

"Hey, buddy." Ford said gently. "How do you feel?"

"I'm…" Fiddleford stuttered as he regained some strength. He wasn't hurt and he didn't have any injuries, but that didn't stop the uncontrollable shaking. "I'm okay…"

Hephzie hugged him softly as he laid still in the couch. Fiddleford stared, surprised by her sudden lunge of affection, at her shoulder and hugged her back slowly, wrapping his arms around her shoulders.

"Fidds, I'm sorry." Hephzie said. "I'm so, so sorry. Ya saw right through him. Ya were right. I'm sorry I put ya through that n' I'm sorry for what I said. You're a good man n' one of the most lovin' fathers I know, n'..."

"Hold on there, it's okay, Hephzie." Fiddleford said as he hugged his friend back. "No need t'apologize. Your heart was in the right place. It's okay."

"I'm… I'm sor…"

"Nope, don't wanna hear another word 'bout that, Hephzie." Fiddleford said with a smile and patted her back. She let go and Fiddleford sat up. "All's well that ends well, after all."

Hephzie smiled at him, as well as Ford, and then Stan came in with a mug full of hot tea with extra honey and a wet washcloth.

"Hey, look who's back on planet Earth." Stan chuckled and handed his friend the hot drink and hot towel. "How are you feeling?"

"Better." Fiddleford said as he took the mug and sipped it and wiped his sweaty forehead with the hot washcloth, not realizing how true that statement was. Surrounded by friends, his shaking was almost completely gone. "I'm feelin' better, thank ya."

* * *

 _Stanford was standing at the window, watching his father kick his twin brother out of the house. Stanford turned away when Stanley looked up at him and closed the curtain. He needed time. He needed space. He was angry, hurt, and confused. Too much was happening at once._

 _"Fine! I can make it on my own! I don't need you, I don't need anyone! I'll make millions and you'll rue the day you turned your back on me!"_

 _Stanford heard those words crystal clear and the screeching of tires. His hands held the curtains with paling knuckles. Despite the overwhelming evidence, Stanford needed visual confirmation that his brother was gone, for reasons unknown even to him. He slowly opened the curtains._

 _He jumped back and onto the floor when the shapeshifter was pressed against the window, the glass turning icy by the extreme cold. Stanford breathed heavy and then covered his ears and scrunched his eyes closed as a horrifying scream echoed._

 _"How many times are you gonna kick people out of your life, Sixer?!"_

 _Stanford forced his eyes open and was modified to see his brother at the window, not the shapeshifter, and then he was frozen solid, that look of hurt and betrayal all over his face._

 _"NO!"_

Stanford woke up, sitting up quickly as he breathed heavy. His breathing soon mellowed and he rubbed his sweaty face with a polydactyl hand. The nightmare hadn't even been that bad, but it sure scared the hell out of him and interrupted a good night's sleep. Stanford quickly quieted his breathing in case it would wake his wife. He looked down at her to find her still sleeping by his side, laying on her left side so she faced him.

Stanford smiled down at her, his blurry vision giving him just enough in the dark to see her beautiful, peaceful form, one hand tucked under her pillow and the other lying by her chest. Stanford laid back down and gently held her close to his chest, like a child with his stuffed toy. He kissed the top of her head and found it easy to close his eyes and rest. As drowsiness overtook him, he could feel Hephzibah move her hands so they held him back gently.

Needless to say, he didn't have anymore nightmares that night.


	40. Holidays

Hephzibah was sitting in bed, waiting for her husband to join her. Stanford was brushing his teeth in the bathroom, the door wide open, and was dressed in his warm flannel pajamas to beat the cold. From the last day of November to the first day of December, the daily temperature went from 56 degrees Fahrenheit to 32.

Hephzibah had something on her mind she wished to share. She had been thinking about this one-again, off-again since… well, since she first started dating Stanford in high-school, and they had talked about it before, agreeing that it would happen at some point but never being specific as to when, but now she wanted to take the conversation topic more seriously. "Hey, Stanford?" Hephzibah opened with.

"Hm?" His mouth was too busy cleaning to talk.

"I think we should try to have a baby."

Stanford spat in the sink. Hephzibah hoped it was because that was the necessary next step into cleaning one's teeth, but the look he gave her when he turned away from the mirror and faced her said otherwise. He didn't look mad or appalled that she would say that, just caught off guard. "I'm sorry, what?" Stanford asked in a tone he tried to keep calm.

"I think we should try to have a baby." Hephzibah repeated calmly.

Stanford's face softened and he turned back to the mirror to wipe his lips clean and to rinse off and put his toothbrush away. "Um… what… what made you… that is, do you really think we're ready for a… a…" Stanford swallowed and coughed into his fist.

Hephzibah raised an eyebrow at his reaction to her proposal and said, "Well, yeah."

"But do you really think now is the best time?" Stanford stressed as he turned off the bathroom light and stepped into the room. "I mean, with your job at the hospital and the portal…"

"But if we try now, by the time the baby gets here the portal will be done, won't it?" Hephzibah asked. "N' ya know, y'all have been workin' so hard on the portal n' the bunker recently, y'all can afford to stop n' smell the roses, so to speak."

"Well, sure, but…" Stanford sat on the bed and tried to find his words. "Hephzibah, I… given everything that has happened recently, I'm not sure I want to take that next step yet."

The young scientist was saddened to see her face drop and Hephzibah looked away from him. "I… I know it's been… I know it hurts, n' I don't wanna do this if ya don't wanna do this, but… I think we're ready."

Stanford tried to be the voice of reason since Hephzibah was too passionate about this to be that. Then again, if someone as amazing as Hephzibah thought that Stanford was ready to be a parent, than the idea of having children may be worth going over. He took in a deep breath and dared to ask a hard question. "Do you truly think we're ready for… for a baby, or do you… do you only really want one?"

Hephzibah looked at him with a mournful expression and said something that made Stanford rethink their plan. "I don't just wanna baby, Brainiac. I wanna start a family with ya. I… I know now isn't the best time, but there's no time like the present, n' I know ya'd make a great dad. We'd be amazin' parents."

Stanford was silent as he gave it some serious thought. For the longest time, he believed Hephzibah would be an amazing mother. He saw that when she cared for newborns at work or when she held Shifty in her arms or when she helped with Shermie's son years ago. Stanford on the other hand… well, he could learn. Those feeling that he had experienced for the first time lately were coming back, and Stanford was starting to understand Hephzibah's desire to start a family of their own, to have children, to have a baby. It was scary as hell, but maybe it was supposed to be, no matter how prepared you were. He smiled nervously at her. "Is this really what you want?"

Hephzibah bit her lip and rubbed her arm. She didn't like showing her softer side unless it was needed, but if she was being honest, she desperately wanted this. "I… I do. I've always wanted to start a family with you, always. I'm not sayin' all at once, but I've always wanted a big family, to have our own children runnin' 'round this house n' givin' ya n' Stan a run for your money, to see 'em have your smarts n' my good looks." Hephzibah laughed to lighten the mood and she flicked her deadlocks, which her down from her high-ponytail for the night.

Stanford chuckled. That did sound nice. It was still scary as hell, but it did sound nice to have one or two little Hephzies running around. Honestly, the more Stanford thought about it, the more inclined he was to go against his better judgment and have a baby. He was still hesitant to start a family, insecure about his parenting abilities and past bad experiences that were too fresh, but he was willing to think about it and try. But then, a tiny voice, his conscious, his Muse, his friend, hissed in his ear, just barely loud enough to pick up if Stanford wasn't already used to it after so many visits. "Not a smart move, Sixer." He then thought of the portal and how, when it was completed, it would change everything. With so much going on, adding a new life to the mix just didn't seem wise.

"While I've always agreed on having children at some point, I just don't think now is the right time." Stanford said and took her hand to hold it reassuringly. "I promise, one day we will have a baby, but… but let's wait until after the portal. I want to focus solely on my family when the time comes."

Hephzibah gave a defeated sigh and said, "You're right. But, after the portal, we'll talk 'bout it?"

"Of course we will." Stanford said happily and kissed his wife. "I think you will be a wonderful mother someday, I just want to be able to give my family nothing but the best."

Hephzibah chuckled and turned off her lamp. "You're the best, but thanks."

Stanford couldn't help but notice how less-inclined she was to curl up with him in bed, despite the fact that she did and that it was a little cold tonight. Hephzibah was probably just disappointed in the fact that Stanford was right.

* * *

Stanford opened his eyes to find Bill in front of him. There was no game of interdimensional chess between them, but there was tea, mostly out of politeness seeing out the tea didn't satisfy any hunger or thirst Stanford didn't had or kept him awake.

"Hiya, Sixer!" Bill greeted cheerfully. "Rough night with the Misses, huh?"

Stanford chuckled good-naturedly and grabbed his floating cup. "No, no. She is just ready to take the next step in our relationship, that's all."

"I'll say. You humans get too distracted. Glad to know you've still got that same focus you had when I picked you." Bill said and sipped his own tea, his eye acting as a mouth temporarily.

Stanford blushed into his cup as he took another sip. He lowered it to speak. "About the portal…"

"Yeah, you, Glasses and Muscles are actually making great progress." Bill reported. "At this rate you'll be done in a little over a month, as long as you stay focus."

"I can do that." Stanford quickly confirmed. "The holidays are coming up, which means we will soon have to visit Shermie and his family, but once we're back and have had some time with our loved ones it will be full steam ahead."

Bill's eye squinted boringly as he stirred the tea in his cup slowly by moving the cup in circles. "Just don't forget, Fordsie. You're almost there. You can't afford to get sidetracked, not even by your family."

Stanford frowned a little at that. "They only have the best intentions…"

"Well, sure they do!" Bill agreed with a serious look on his triangle. "They're your family and they care about you and yada, yada, yada, but you gotta keep that focus, Smart Guy."

Stanford thought about what his wife was suggesting earlier. Stanford was determined to discover the Grand Unified Theory of Weirdness before anyone else, but as far as he knew, no one else was on the hunt for it. He couldn't waste time doing nothing, but he didn't have to rush. According to Bill, however, it seemed like an urgent matter to have the portal completed. "If I may ask," Stanford brought up politely. "Is there a reason why we must have the portal done so quickly?"

Bill's eye squinted again. Stanford felt a chill, like a cold breeze on a winter's night, but he was in the Mindscape. There was no such thing as wind or cold or winter or chill here. But Stanford felt it. Stanford looked at Bill and, for a moment, wasn't sure if he was agitated or thinking. No, no. Bill was just thinking deeply. He wouldn't be angry over a simple question.

"Look," Bill sighed. "I didn't want to tell you this, but you remember how I pick someone every one hundred years to inspire, right?" When Stanford nodded, the Muse went on. "Well, there's a certain criteria that I have to follow. I need to inspire someone determined, someone intelligent, someone focused and set on their goals. I can keep inspiring you as long as you fit that criteria, if not…"

"You'll leave?!" Stanford jumped to, sitting up in his chair and staring at Bill.

He raised a free hand to stop the human. "Whoa, there. I won't have a choice, and I don't want to, but yes. If you can't stay focused, I'll have no choice but to leave." If Bill left, the portal would never be completed! Everything would fall apart! Stanford couldn't lose Bill! If he did, he would lose everything! How else could he prove his theory?!

"No!" Stanford yelled, realized he was yelling, and cleared his throat. "No. Don't worry, I'll keep us on track and you'll see the portal being opened on time."

"That's what I like to hear!" Bill said cheerfully. "You're already doing a great job, you just gotta work hard to keep it up! Don't forget where Icarus messed up: he didn't flap hard enough."

* * *

As the days got colder, the men worked harder. Hanukkah started the tenth of December this year and, usually, they Pines would go to Shermie's house for Rosh Chodesh Tevet on the sixth and seventh day of the Jewish holiday. Unfortunately, Stan answered the phone on the third day of December and Shermie said that Alex had the flu and that it wasn't safe to have family over, so Stan, Ford, and Hephzie's plans for the holidays were thrown for a loop.

The holidays were an unusually quiet times for the Pines, apart from the visit to California and the gift exchanging. Gift-giving became a huge operation since they always celebrated three holidays, and this year was no exception. They made their own tradition when it came to gift-giving; on the last day of Hanukkah and Kwanzaa and on Christmas morning, they opened presents, and everyone got three presents, one from each person and one of combined. They didn't celebrate Hanukkah and Kwanzaa like they did as children, with each day having significant meaning, but they did light the menorah and the kinara by the front window during the holidays, and they did have a traditional meal on the sixth day of Kwanzaa that Stan had taught himself to cook using Grandma Cece's old recipes. They also enjoyed following a tradition of going out into the woods and chopping down a Christmas tree, accompanied by decorating it and sipping hot chocolate, the day after Hanukkah was over.

Gift-giving was always the exciting part of the holidays. As children, their gifts had been fun and exciting, and things didn't change as adults. The holidays were especially enjoyable this year because the McGucket family joined them for most of their traditions, so they had their own Hanukkah dinner that Stan and Maddie worked together on. Tate enjoyed tasting the Jewish feast and the Pines were happy to help the McGucket cut down a tree for their own house.

Despite the excitement of the holidays, however, Ford and more determined now than ever before to finish the portal and finish it soon. Plans were delayed as Fiddleford had to help Maddie shop for presents and he had fun traditions with his son, like building a gingerbread house and making a homemade gift for Maddie. Stan also stayed busy during the holidays, singing made-up carols and songs as he decorated the house, did chores, and sneakily hid presents, meaning that if Ford really wanted to get any work done he had to do it alone.

Stan and Hephzie worried about him. Ford was usually a lot of fun during the holidays, but this year he worked late into the night and locked himself in the thinking parlor or downstairs in the cold lab. Stan's teasing and Hephzie's flirting couldn't get him to slow down and smell the roses, as Hephzie requested that he do. One morning, he would pay severely for it.

Ford heard the door open but didn't look up from his calculations. It felt like he had just started and now someone had come to interrupt him. He tried to focus and keep working.

"Ford." Stan's voice whispered. "Hey, Ford. Sixer." His was voice low, low enough to easily ignore, but it got steadily louder. "Fordsie. Brainiac! Nerd! Hey, STANFORD!"

Ford lost his patience and looked up at his brother. "WHAT?!"

And he got hit with a face-full of snow.

Stan laughed so hard he had to hold himself up with his knees.

Ford wiped the snow from his face and sprinted from his chair. "Oh, come here, you knucklehead!"

Stan ran out of the thinking parlor with his brother hot on his tail, but when Ford reached the doorway he got another snowball to the face. Stan and Hephzie did a high-five and laughed as Ford coughed out snow and wiped the melting water from his glasses.

"HEPHZIBAH!" He yelled, but he couldn't keep his lips from curling up into a smile.

The first half of December, it had been freezing outside, but no snow had fallen. On the morning of the first day of Hanukkah, the eleventh, apparently Stan and Hephzie had woken up to a blanket full of great packing snow and were taking advantage of it. The two kept on laughing and Hephzie asked smugly, "Whatcha gonna do 'bout it, handsome?"

Ford saw a bucket of snowballs by the doorway, probably made for Hephzie and Stan's use, but he was quicker and grabbed it.

"AH, NO! THE ENEMY'S TAKEN OUR AMO!" Stan yelled and he and Hephzie bolted down the hall with Ford chasing them and pelting them with snowballs.

The three adults laughed like children as Hephzie and Stan ran for their lives to the door, soaked in their pajamas by melting snow, but they didn't give a single care. Stan and Hephzie threw the door open and stopped at the edge of the porch, the snow so tall that it was level with the elevated porch. Ford threw one last snowball at the back of Hephzie's head and she lost balance on the slippery wood and fell face-first on the thick snow, making a wonderful crunch and landing like she was going to make a snow angel on her front.

Stan and Ford both winced, seeing how she was only in her purple-silk pajama top and bottoms and probably freezing, but she soon turned, laying on her back, and laughed so hard her breath could be seen in the cold air. The twins joined in the laughter, and as Hephzie was starting to stand, Stan pushed Ford into the snow and he landed on top of Hephzie. Stan laughed so hard his ribs hurt. Hephzie fell backwards on the snow and Ford laid on top of her. They both laughed and Ford gave his wife an apologetic kiss, which she happily took.

Ford rolled off of Hephzie and tried to stand up, but Stan jumped on him and the twins rolled around in the snow, wrestling each other like when they were kids. Hephzie laughed and threw a snowball that landed on Stan's face, so he went from putting Ford in a headlock to throwing a ball of snow at Hephzie. A huge snowball fight in their pajamas befell upon the Pines family and it was fiercer than WWI. At one point, Stan hit Hephzie's leg with a snowball and she fell backwards on the snow to laugh freely and surrender. Stan fell next to her, back-first, and laughed carefree up to the brought sky. Wanting to be a part of the scene, Ford fell and completed the circle as he also laughed over the game and they laid in pure happiness until how wet they were became noticed and they had to go inside before anyone got sick.

The three quickly changed into sweaters and cozy pants, and before Ford could retreat to the thinking parlor to resume work, Stan made popcorn while Hephzie threw their pajamas in the washing machine and Stan told Ford to pick an old movie. The scientist found it hard to resist a pleasant morning with his brother and his wife, so he picked a film and soon they were all on the couch and commentating on the movie like it was a sporting event.

* * *

It was one week until Christmas and cold as hell, but Stan didn't really have much choice but to go to the store. It was Sunday, so Fiddleford had the day off and usually Ford would go with Stan to the store to get out of the house, but Ford was busy working and so Stan went alone, seeing how Hephzie was at the hospital. Which, honestly, Stan didn't mind running the errand alone. It was nice to have some personal time and to get the chore done and over with so he could sit in his chair and watch Cash Wheel with some hot chocolate.

It was a big shopping trip, too. The kind that mothers did everything in their power to not take their kids to. The kind that ended with a cart full to the brim of things. The kind of trip that it was easy to steal an occasional tangerine or can of tuna. Hey, old habits die hard. Stan's old boxing days and muscular arms came in handy as he piled the groceries into the Stanmobile and then headed home. He went down the usual highway and through downtown. He was just entering the old town road that winded out into the woods when something came running out in front of the road.

Stan slammed on the breaks, probably breaking the eggs, and he swore as he gave himself a little whiplash and probably didn't do the breaks any good. He parked the car and stepped out to see what it was. It was probably a gnome or a squirrel that would hop along its merry way and ignore the shaking fist, but Stan relaxed when he saw what had stopped in the middle of the road out of fear.

It was a small puppy. Definitely a puppy when Stan recognized the breed. Saint Bernards were some of the biggest dogs there were, but this guy was no bigger than your average teddy bear. He was flaked in snow and had muddy paws and wet fur from being in the snow for God only knows how long. Stan didn't know much about Saint Bernards, only that they were ideal for snow because of their thick coat, but this poor little guy was shivering as he curled in on himself at the sight of Stan.

"Hey there, squirt." He said quietly and bent his knees, one hand on the hood of his Diablo, and he held out his other hand for the pup. "You scared the living daylights out of me. You doing okay?"

The Saint Bernard pup slowly approached Stan's hand and sniffed it, but he seemed unsure. Stan wanted to make sure the pup wouldn't run away from him if he tried to pick it up, so he pulled out a can of tuna from his jacket and opened it. He wasn't sure if dogs liked fish, but if it was truly starving then the pup would eat whatever was given. Stan held out the can to the dog, and after a cautious sniff, the Saint Bernard pup flopped to the food and wolfed it down, slipping a little on the icy pavement with his cotton balls for paws, but he reached the meal nonetheless.

"Heh, you're a tough guy, huh?" Stan chuckled and watched the pup eat. He checked its fluffy neck for a collar, but of course the pup didn't have one. The pup looked way too young to be without his ma, but here he was. Cold and on his own. And no, Stan was not relating to it, from one previously homeless guy to another current one. When the pup was nearly finished eating, Stan picked him up by his neck and then opened his maroon coat to try to warm the pup up. "Don't worry, squirt, I know just the perfect ma for ya."

And so, in a very Stan-like fashion, he got in the car and booked it.

Ford was in the thinking parlor, as usual, when his brother knocked and came in. "Hey, Ford, ya got a sec?"

"What is it, Stanley?"

"I just wanted to let you know that I got the perfect gift for Hephzie!"

Ford turned in his chair and his jaw dropped when Stan pulled out a small dog from inside his coat. Instantly, Ford recognized the breed as Saint Bernard. The puppy was curled up in Stan's arms and when he saw Ford he barked happily and panted with a little pink tongue poking out of his drooling muzzle.

"Stanley!" Ford scolded. "What… are you kidding me?! A dog?!"

"Whoa, hey, Sixer," Stan said defensively. "I found him on my way home, nearly hit him with the car. He's clearly the runt of the litter and he doesn't have a home. What was I supposed to do? Feed him to the wolves?"

Ford calmed down a little at the fact that Stan wasn't completely reckless and bought a dog. He looked at the poor animal and did take note of how small, underfed, and dirty he was. Ford then gave the idea some thought. Hephzie had actually been asking for a pet for a long time. If she truly wanted one, she was an adult with her own job, she could go out and buy one, but she waited for the twins to be on board with it, too. From her suggestion of getting a duck for a pet, to subtle hints here and there, it was clear that Hephzie was ready to welcome another family member to her home. Ford wasn't ready for children just yet, but he felt like they could handle a pet. If they could handle a dog, then certainly after the portal they would be ready for a baby or two.

Ford held out his hand to the puppy and he happily licked Ford's six fingers. He chuckled and Stan handed him the little dog. "Hephzie did always want a pet…"

"Now if we can just find a way to hide him for a week, we'll be good." Stan joked and petted the dog's head as he licked Ford's face and he had to hold the puppy away at arm's length as he laughed.

"I doubt that will be possible." Ford said. "I've got an idea."

* * *

Hephzie raised an eyebrow when she got home from work that evening and saw the box in the middle of the living room. Stan was sipping from a steaming mug of hot chocolate at the card table with a smug grin all over his face, which wasn't unusual but still a little unsettling. Ford sat on the couch with one leg crossed over the other and an arm hanging off the side of the couch.

"Happy Holidays." He said calmly and gestured to the box, decorated with green, brown, and red plaid wrapping paper and a giant red ribbon and bow.

Hephzie smiled and still gave the big box a skeptical look. "What did ya two do?" Everything about the two men told her that they were hiding something. "What, is it gonna explode?"

Stan barked out a laugh. "Just open it, ya wuss."

Hephzie walked into the living room and up to the present. It was a perfect cube and went up to her knees. She started to undo the ribbon to free the lid, but Ford shook a hand and said, "Oh, you don't have to untie it; it's just designed to look like we're skilled enough to wrap it properly."

Hephzie chuckled and lifted the lid as static slowed her down. The doctor with dreadlocks looked down into the box and gasped until her lungs were filled to the brim with oxygen. Stan and Ford both smiled at her reaction as she dropped the lid, her jaw still hanging and her eyes shining like stars. Hopping up on the wall of the box and wearing a red ribbon for a collar, was a Saint Bernard puppy.

"No. Shut up." Hephzie wheezed. "Oh my God, are ya serious?!"

"He's all yours, darling." Ford said with a smile and deep, smoothing voice that dripped with love. Yup, it was worth keeping the dog if it made Hephzie that happy.

Hephzie grinned until her cheeks ached and, no, her eyes weren't watering! She put a hand into the box and let out a soft "aw" as the puppy licked her hand and rubbed his head into her hold. She gently scratched under his little muzzle and then reached her second hand in there to grab him and carefully pull him out of the box. He was mostly brown, with black spots and a white face, underbelly, and tail, which was wagging uncontrollably. Hephzie held the puppy with both arms and hugged it close to her chest, the little guy being quite the ball of fuzz, but still relatively small for a Saint Bernard puppy.

"Oh, Sweet Lord, he's perfect!" Hephzie exclaimed and kissed the top of his head. The puppy responded by licking her face. "Oh, hello! Yes, hi!" She laughed with a watery voice and turned her head away so the little tongue wouldn't touch her mouth.

"Aw, Hephzie, are you crying?" Stan teased.

"Shut up, Stanley." Hephzie laughed and scratched the Saint Bernard under his muzzle. "Thank ya, thank ya both so much…"

"You're welcome." Ford said as he smiled. Yup, worth it, no question about it.

"Does he have a name?" Hephzie asked as she sat on the couch next to her husband and let the puppy sit on her lap.

"Nope," Stan said point-blank. "Just a nameless stray, probably the runt of the litter from the looks of it."

"Really?" Hephzie asked, noticing that under the fluffy fur that kept him warm, the puppy was a little malnourished.

"Oh yeah, he should be a few pounds bigger, but he'll get pretty big." Stan warned.

"Then we'll call him Everest." Hephzie said as the puppy licked her fingers.

Ford chuckled. "Everest?"

"Or we could call him Bentley, cuz he's so small now." Hephzie suggested.

Ford looked at the puppy, who's tiny tail wagged furiously as he climbed up on Hephzie's chest and licked her neck, and Ford scratched the puppy on top of his head. The puppy turned his attention to Ford and they seemed to smile at each other.

"No, he looks like an Everest." Ford concluded.

* * *

To finish Hephzie's present, they made plans the next day to get puppy supplies, but until then Everest was curled up in an old blanket on the couch for the night. Everest didn't like it, though. It was too lonely. He got up from the blanket and fell off the couch. He got up quickly and sniffed the floor for the humans. He caught their smells, all three of them, and decided to follow the trail.

Everest went down the hall and followed all three smells, but soon the smells went in different ways. Two smells went one day, one went the other way. Everest wanted to be with the most people, so he went the way the two smells went. Everest kept on going until his nose hit something hard. He looked up at the closed door. Everest whined and sniffed the door. The smells were really strong behind the door. They were there! But Everest couldn't get to them! He sat and whined sadly. He whined and whined and even tried to howl, but he hadn't learned that yet. He stood on all fours and wagged his tail when the door opened.

"E-E-Everest, hush. You're 'pose t'be asleep." The man yawned and rubbed his eyes. He picked Everest up and he licked the man's face. This was the nice one with the odd thing on his face and the best scratches. Well, everyone here scratched really good and was nice. That's why Everest loved it here so much.

"Aw, sweetheart, he's lonely." Another voice said, and when Everest heard it, he wiggled in the man's arms and tried to get to the woman. "He might also be scared, bein' in a new place."

"Darling, if he was a stray, I'm sure he's used to being in new places." The man said, but he carried Everest into the room. "But, I suppose, one night wouldn't hurt."

"Aw, c'mere, Everest." The man handed Everest to the woman and Everest licked her. She laughed a little and petted Everest in a way that made him sleepy. "Aw, hi, sweetie. Ya missed Mama n' Papa?" The woman yawned.

That's right! Those were their names! And Everest loved them! He laid on the cozy, warm bed by Mama's legs and felt Papa scratched his back as they laid down, too. Soon Everest fell asleep and he planned to do this every night.


	41. Pressure

Tate was happy to have a pet to play with whenever the McGucket family visited the Pines, but also mad that he didn't get a dog for Christmas like he had asked Santa Claus for. The fish, Banjo, would just have to do for now.

Everest was a good puppy. His personality shined through and he proved to be a snuggle bug; he was perfectly happy to curl up in someone's lap, or have someone hold him, or to be rolled up in a blanket like a burrito. He was a clumsy little ball of fur who drooled a lot thanks to his big muzzle, and one day he wouldn't make the best lap dog, seeing how the little puppy wouldn't be so little for long, but he fitted into the small Pines family well.

Everest grew attached quickly. He was a mama's boy to Hephzie; it was fun to watch his reaction if she came home during the day. Everest would run to the door, slid on the hardwood floor and hit the wall or the small end table, but keep on running until he got to Hephzie's feet and put his front paws up on her legs. Hephzie would pick him up, laughing, and pet him and hug him in greeting. At dinner, Everest usually sat between her and Stan, because they were the ones most likely to drop a piece of food on purpose for him, despite Ford's nagging not to.

Everest also grew close to the twins. He shared a special bond with Stan, him being the one that saved Everest, and he would always crawl up on Stan's lap and lie there when he sat reclined in his chair to watch TV. Everest had a way of getting Ford to open the parlor's door by whining until someone opened it, be it Stan as he passed by or Ford who was too irritated to hear it anymore. Everest would then run under Ford's desk, lie his head on his socked feet, and fall asleep, keeping his alpha company as he worked. Ford not only didn't mind, but it got to a point where he would wait and let Everest catch up with him from the kitchen table to the thinking parlor and he now always left his door cracked open.

Kwanzaa and New Years came and went, and at the year of 1983, everyone had hit the ground running. With every visit Ford had from Bill, his Muse pushed him more and more to keep working hard on the portal, and rightfully so. Bill was his Muse, his friend. He was only doing what he could to help Ford and his loved ones reach their highest potential.

Stan and Fiddleford tried to keep up with Ford and meet his rising demands, but at some point they would retire for the night and leave Ford to work alone. Even after thirteen cups of coffee and with the bluegrass music playing from the record player in the background, Fiddleford slammed his personal computer closed and admitted defeat. Ford turned to look at his assistant as he packed up his things for the night. They were in the basement, and it didn't matter what Ford tried, Everest always found a way downstairs if he wanted to be there. The Saint Bernard puppy perked up from lying under Ford's desk and he ran to Fiddleford, who petted the dog's head goodnight when he was at the elevator.

"Don't forget what happened to Icarus." Fiddleford said warningly to his friend as he clicked the button.

"He didn't flap hard enough." Ford said monotoned.

Fiddleford shook his head with an amused smiled over his friend's stupidity and left him alone with Everest. Ford was bent over the desk that windowed the portal in progress. It was almost completed, the whole frame finished. The whole thing was built and finished on the outside, Stan's hard work paying off; it was the inside that wasn't finished. They had the tool, they just needed to make the tool work.

Everest walked back to Ford, but did not lay at his master's feet. Instead, his put his little paws up on his chair, standing on his hind legs, and licked Ford's hip and leg. Ford looked down at the puppy and smiled at his cute features.

"What is it, boy?" Ford asked. "Hungry?"

Everest didn't perk up or bark. The puppy had learned many words. He was slowly learning "sit" and "stay" and "roll over", but key words he learned rather quickly included "hungry", because it meant food was coming, "treat", because he knew what a treat was and was happy to get one, and "Mama", "Papa", and "Uncle Stan". When the puppy didn't react to the word "hungry", Ford knew he didn't want food.

"What, want up on Papa's lap?" Great, now he was calling himself that. Ford, at first, thought it was silly for Hephzie to call him that, but he let it go and it stuck.

Everest didn't know the words "up" or "lap", but when Ford dropped his pen and picked Everest up, his tiny cotton-ball of a tail wagged and he licked Ford's cleft chin when he got close. He chuckled and laid the puppy on his lap. Everest instantly curled up into a ball of fur and closed his eyes for sleep. Sleep was probably necessary, seeing how the warmth the puppy gave in the cold basement was making Ford sleepy and his eyelids heavy, but he was determined to keep working.

The hard-working scientist managed to stay awake for another two hours. It was only midnight, but Ford felt so tired, seeing how he pulled an all-nighter the night before to keep them on track. He was pulled from his thoughts when he heard something that amused him. He looked down to find that Everest was breathing so heavily and so peacefully that he was snoring through his nose. Ford wanted to laugh, but he knew it would wake his pet, so he settled on petting Everest's head and whispering,

"Good boy, Everest. Good boy."

Ford averted his eyes back to his work and found it incredibly hard to focus. But he had to! He had to stay focus or he'd lose everything! He had to keep them on track! He had to make sure the portal was done in time! He had to! Ford pinched his right arm with his left hand and kept on working. He redid an equation when he realized that it was wrong, and he tried to get his brain to do it right.

Except for the fact that his blink turned into his eyes remaining closed for sleep, and Ford laid his head in his hand and began to dream.

* * *

 _Bill was in front of Stanford again, shaking his triangular body with a smile on his eye. "Ya know, I feel sorry for you, Sixer." He said, and Stanford's worries of Bill's disappointment withered away. "No matter how high your IQ is or how special you are, you're still human. Smarts don't change the fact that you need food, water and sleep to function. I don't need any of that. I have freedoms, being a non-corporeal entity, that you don't have. The point is, it's sucks that you need sleep, but I understand that it's something you need. How's about you let me take over your body and finish the calculations while you sleep?"_

 _Stanford blinked. "You can do that?!"_

 _"Sure!" Bill laughed, amused that the human in front of him didn't know that. "I'll take over for six hours to give you enough time to recharge your batteries, that way you, Muscles, and Glasses can work on the portal well rested and fully focused." Bill held out his hand and it became encased with blue flames. "Have we got a deal?"_

 _Stanford grinned at the black hand engulfed in flames. He would be an idiot not to accept such a generous offer! He held out his hand to take Bill's, but a thought came to him, that made him pause. "Wait, what if Stanley or Hephzibah come try to get me to sleep and it isn't me?"_

 _Bill laughed. "They're both exhausted! Hephzie's worked a long day and has work again tomorrow, and Stan's knocked out. What are the odds they'll walk in tonight? It's just six little hours."_

 _Stanford agreed with Bill's logic. Hephzibah had worked from seven in the morning to seven at night and was in bed by the time Fiddleford left since she had to work from ten in the morning to ten at night the next day. Stanley would usually try to get Stanford to go to sleep, but then let him suffer the consequences of his choices in hopes that Stanford had learned his lesson and wouldn't pull this kind of stunt again. Stanley was already asleep for the night and would most likely remain that way until the last possible minute._

 _"You're right." Stanford agreed. "It's a deal." And he took Bill's hand._

* * *

Everest felt a chill go down his spine in his sleep, his instincts acting as they should, and the puppy woke up. He sat up in Papa's lap, but something was wrong. Very wrong. Everest could feel it under his fur.

In Ford's body, Bill flexed his twelve fingers and stared at his hands with a forced, toothy grin. "Wow, six fingers on each hand! Doesn't feel as freaky as I thought it would! No wonder Fordsie can live with it!" He blinked hard a few times, testing his two eyes, but frowned at the opposite effect the glasses had on his eyes. "Geez, his eyesight really is awful." Bill removed Ford's glasses and pocketed them.

He looked down at the growling puppy in his lap and grinned wickedly at Everest. It startled the Saint Bernard to see a stranger in his papa's eyes; he stumbled to the floor, like the clumsy pup he was, but he soon stood on all fours and growled at Bill, the hairs on the back of his neck sticking up and his muzzle scrunched up to show his sharp teeth.

Bill, still smiling, stood and looked down menacingly at Everest. "Beat it, Fur Ball." He growled and kicked the puppy, hitting his side, and Everest ran to the elevator. He scratched and whined at the door to try to get away from the stranger and it wasn't until Bill stumbled on his feet, still learning how to use the human body, to the elevator and opened it. Everest ran in, barking and growling, and Bill happily be ridded himself of the puppy.

"Now," Bill's voice echoed from Ford's mouth as he rubbed his cold hands together. "Let's open that door, shall we?"

* * *

Ford woke up, sitting laid back in his chair, and he stretched his arms up above his head. He checked the clock on his desk. Bill had been true to his word and had given Ford his body back after six hours. The human smiled as he tested his body, flexing his hands and fingers and rolling his shoulders, and everything felt normal. To Ford, it was like he had slept soundly and woken up fully charged and ready to take on the day. He became even more excited when he saw the piles of work on his desk. One quick glance told him that Bill had not only completed the work and got them on track to finishing the portal on time, but had done a splendid job! Well, of course he did! He was a Muse!

Ford opened his journal to quickly record his experience. It was only seven in the morning. Hephzie's alarm would set off at eight. Stan's usually went off at eight-thirty and then he hit the snooze a dozen times until he finally got up for breakfast around nine so he could at least say good morning to his sister-in-law before she went to work. Ford happily drew and wrote in his beloved journal to relive this once-in-a-lifetime experience. A little before eight, he pulled himself away from his work as an idea came to him, deciding to use his newfound energy and cheerful attitude to benefit others.

Ford went upstairs and into his bedroom where his wife slept. Hephzie was on her back this morning, one arm over her eyes and the other by her side, her soft hand over a sleepy puppy who had fallen asleep by his mama's side. Ford smiled at Everest as he opened one eye, and Ford expected Everest to jump up on him and lick him in greeting, but Everest curled tighter on himself, almost like he was afraid of Ford. That hurt more than he thought it would.

Ford slowly held out his hand to his pet, but Everest didn't lick his fingers or even sniff him. Ford turned off the alarm on Hephzie's nightstand before it could set off as he tried to think of why his dog was afraid of him. Ford then remembered that Everest had fallen asleep on his lap right before talking to Bill. It must have been frightening for Everest to have Papa not being Papa.

"I'm sorry, Everest," Ford whispered so quietly that only a dog with keen hearing could pick it up. "I know it must have been frightening, but I promise that everything's okay now. It's me, see?" Ford tried again to have Everest show him some form of trust.

Everest was too young to understand human language. While Ford wasn't sure if dogs were smart enough to fully understand, even as adults, he believed that canines were very intelligent and that, at least, they could understand the kind tone the words were being said in. He hoped Everest understood. The puppy slowly crawled out from under Hephzie's hand and up to Ford's. He did eventually lick Ford's fingers and seemed to grasp the fact that Papa was back. Ford smiled and the puppy allowed him to pet his head.

"Good boy, Everest. Good boy." He praised in a quiet whisper. "Now, who wants to help me wake up Mama?"

Ford looked down at Hephzie's peaceful, sleeping form, and a small part regretted the fact that he didn't join her, but it was for the best, and maybe tonight when she got home they could sit in the thinking parlor and talk alone. Ford bent down and kissed Hephzie's cheek, long and gentle. Hephzie stirred a little in her sleep, but didn't quite seem to wake up. Ford smiled affectionately at her before kissing her lips, and soon she kissed back, but then Ford ruined the moment by holding the Saint Bernard puppy to Hephzie's face and Everest licked all over her rapidly.

"Ack!" Hephzie yelped and sat up a little, propping up on an elbow, and she laughed and tried to keep Everest from licking her lips. "E-E-Everest! N-Not my mouth!"

"Get her, Everest!" Ford laughed.

"Ford, ya asshole!" Hephzie yelled, still laughing, and managed to sit up and hold her dog. She sat Everest in her lap and scratched him to calm him down. "Did ya get any sleep last night?" Hephzie asked as she raised an eyebrow at her husband.

"Nope!" He said proudly for unknown reasons.

"Stanford Pines, you're the dumbest genius I've ever met." Hephzie said and shook her head.

Ford laughed and asked, "Are you sure you haven't confused me for Stanley?"

"Nah, he's the smartest idiot I've ever met." Hephzie chuckled and got out of bed.

Later, after Stan and Ford ate breakfast and Fiddleford had come to work, they went downstairs to resume their work. Stan and Fiddleford were astounded when Ford presented the accomplished stack of work that had been done in the night and how well rested and alert Ford was. Ford had to hold his breath to keep from laughing when he saw their faces.

* * *

A few hours after Ford's deal with his Muse, he noticed how badly his right eye stung. What first felt like dust or an eyelash getting into his eye was soon an uncontrollable burning sensation that made it difficult to open his eye. Ford managed to hide it from Stan and Fiddleford for a while, bending over his work and managing to sorely open his sore eye when faced with one of them, but soon the soreness was too apparent to write off.

"Hey, you okay, Poindexter?" Stan asked. "Your eye looks like it's been bothering you."

"I think it's just dust." Ford admitted.

"I told you it's unhealthy to be down here too long!" Stan boasted, quick to grab any opportunity to prove that he was tight and his brother was wrong. "Go wash your face and get some fresh air or something."

Ford acted on Stan's suggestion and went upstairs for another cup of coffee and to splash his eye clean over the kitchen sink and maybe even take some painkillers to help with the burning.

* * *

The next day, Fiddleford found the basement to be too cold and too dark, much too similar to the cabinet he had been gagged and trapped in by that monster. He needed to use the memory gun. He didn't have a chance to use it this morning and had to hastily pocket it when his son ran into his bedroom to tackled him in a hug. The memory of the horrifying nightmare that caused a sleepless night had left him temporarily, but it crept back to him as he worked with the Pines twins.

Fiddleford had hoped he could wait until he went home, but his anxiety was so bad he couldn't work properly anymore; his hands were trembling too badly and his knees was bouncing uncontrollably. He could feel the memory gun in his jacket. Fiddleford was usually so careful to never bring it out of his house in fear of someone discovering it, but he had never taken it out of his jacket from when Tater walked in on him. If Fiddleford was quick and careful, he use do it without anyone knowing. If he thought pretending to be sick and going home early would be better he would do it, but Ford and Stan needed him and they needed him to work well. Fiddleford needed to get his mind straight again. He needed to use the memory gun. He needed it.

The engineer excused himself for a few minutes and went to the elevator as calmly as he could. As far as he knew, neither Stan or Ford suspected a thing. Fiddleford ran out of the elevator, terrified of the small metal space at the moment, and he bolted up the stairs and into the main area of the house. He ran to the opposite end in hopes that no one would walk in on him. He went to the living room and was grateful that the dog was gone. He must be sleeping on the couch in the thinking parlor again.

Fiddleford was determined to make it quick. He pulled out his invention from his jacket and shakily input the horrifying encounter he wanted erased from his mind. His hand was shaking and he took the time to check his spelling. Darn it, no! He had to do this right! Fiddleford took in a deep breath to try to settle his nerves long enough to use the dial correctly. There, that ought to do it! He pointed the gun to his head.

"STOP!" A horrified scream echoed, freezing Fiddleford's finger from pushing down on the trigger.

He recognized that scream. Hephzie had come home from work. It must have been later in the day then Fiddleford had thought. He didn't need to turn around to know that Hephzie was staring at her friend's back and had walked by the living room to see him pointing a gun to his head.

Hephzie stepped out of the light of the hallway to the darkness of the living room slowly, like approaching an injured animal. "Fiddleford… don't do it." She pleaded.

Hephzie and Fiddleford weren't immensely close, but they were still friends, and the desperation in her voice made Fiddleford's heart sink. No, he wasn't killing himself! He was fixing himself! He had to make sure she understood that.

Fiddleford turned to look at Hephzie as he lowered the memory gun. "N-No! H-Hephzie, ya… ya don't understand. I would never… I'm not… no! This isn't that type of gun. Think… think of it like a shot ya'd give t'one of the babies ya treat. It helps, n' this doesn't even hurt."

Hephzie's look of absolute fear melted to confusion at his odd choice of a metaphor and her eyes moved to the gun in his hand. "Not that type of gun? Then…" Hephzie could suddenly see the gun clearly when Fiddleford moved his hand a certain way so light gleamed on it. "That's… that's the memory gun, isn't it?" She asked in a deadly whisper.

Thinking this was going better the second time, Fiddleford smiled and held it up so she could see it better and know that it didn't hurt him. "Y-Yes! It allows me t'target bad memories n' take 'em away, like a virus. I could leave the virus there n' suffer, or I could get rid of it…"

"Fiddleford." Hephzie growled and shut her eyes tightly as she clenched both fists. "I'm not stupid! I know what it does! I remember! But… Ford said ya n' Stan destroyed it! Did ya seriously rebuilt it after all that, or…" Hephzie's eyes flew open. She stared at her friend and Fiddleford was surprised and saddened to find heartbrokenness in her brown eyes. "Or ya… no." She said firmly and shook her head. "No. Fiddleford McGucket, tell me I'm wrong. Look me in the eye n' tell me ya didn't erase my family's mind."

Maybe it would be better if she tried to punch him again, but she just looked so sad. She looked so betrayed and heartbroken, and Fiddleford caused that! No! He could fix it! "No! It's… it's not like that! I… they wouldn't listen! Ya wouldn't listen! Y'all tried to take it, but I need it! So I… I… I'm sorry…" Fiddleford then suddenly noticed how much worse his trembling was. It was now so bad that one small touch may cause him to fall over. "I'm sorry…"

"Sorry?" Hephzie said in a strained voice. "Sorry?! Sorry for what?! What did ya do to my family?!"

"I didn't do anythang t'Ford!" Fiddleford yelled. "I swear!"

"What 'bout Stan?!" Hephzie demanded.

Fiddleford gulped. "I… y'all left me no choice! I had to!" He yelled. "I only erased the memory gun, that's it! It didn't even hurt!"

"I don't care!" Hephzie yelled and pointed at Fiddleford. "Ya used that damned thang on my brother! What the HELL is wrong with ya?! How COULD ya do that?!"

This was going south all too quickly. If Fiddleford had been quick about it, if Hephzie had come home only a few minutes later, he could have greeted Hephzie happily and asked about her day. If Fiddleford didn't do something soon, the twins would hear Hephzie's yelling or she would tell them or… Fiddleford hid the gun behind his back. He had the specifier memorized by now. He dialed "two minutes". All he needed was for Hephzie to forget what happened after she came in the door. That's all.

"Hephzie, I'm sorry, but y'all left me no choice!" Fiddleford yelled.

"Ya always have a choice, Fiddleford!" Hephzie shouted. "N', clearly, ya chose that somethang as temperamental as piece of mind was more important than your loved ones!"

That comment made Fiddleford freeze. "W-W-Well, what was I supposed t'do?!" He demanded.

"How 'bout let us help ya?!" Hephzie screamed. "Cuz, believe it or not, there's a lot of people here who love ya n' wanna help ya get through the hell that's in your head!"

"Maybe I don't want nobody's help!" Fiddleford screamed back, now determined to make a point, but who cares?! Soon it will all be over. He pointed the gun at his friend and Hephzie held her breath.

"No… please… I don't wanna…"

Fiddleford pulled the trigger before he could regret it or change his mind.

But Ford was quicker. He and Stan had come up to greet Hephzie, knowing that soon she would be home, and then heard the loud voices and came to intervene when Ford saw someone pointing a gun at his wife. He couldn't save her last time she was in danger, but this time he could. Off of pure instinct, Ford got in between Hephzie and the gun and held his arms out either side of him to shield her from harm, and Ford got full blast of the weapon.

"NO!" Hephzie screamed.

Ford fell unconscious from the hit and Hephzie managed to catch him as he fell, landing on her knees and cradling her husband's head, his eyes closed and his face peaceful like he had fallen asleep.

"Ford!" Hephzie yelled, her chest on Ford's upper-left, and she pushed some of his fluffy brown hair to the side gently with the back of her hand. "Ford? Stanford! Stanford, can ya hear me?! No, no, no! Sweetheart, look at me! Open your eyes n' look at me!"

Stan and Fiddleford were both in some sort of trance as they watched the scene before them play out. Stan was the first to snap out of it, and he charged at Fiddleford from the hallway and into the living room and gave the engineer a hard left-hook. Fiddleford fell to the floor of the living room while Hephzie held Ford close to her chest, protecting him. The gun had fallen out of Fiddleford's hand, and as he looked up at the scary face Stan displayed and rubbed a sore cheek, the younger twin stomped hard on the gun and shattered it under his work boot.

"You fucking shot my brother." He growled in such a scary tone that even Hephzie, who had known him nearly all of his life, shivered.

Fiddleford tried to wheeze out some words, his head too full and now he had no way to empty it. "I… I didn't mean… I wouldn't…"

Ford moaned a little and began to stir in Hephzie's strong hold. She held her breath and took his hand, intertwining their fingers to create a beautiful pattern of dark-skin and light.

"Stanford? Stanford, are ya okay? Can ya wake up? Can ya look at me, baby, please?" Hephzie begged.

Ford slowly opened his eyes and they met with Hephzie's. His mind was slow, like he had been awaken from a deep sleep, but the first thing he noticed was that Hephzie was upset. "Hey," He said softly and squeezed her hand back. "What's wrong?"

Hephzie still didn't relax. She had no idea what that gun was set to delete. "Stanford, sweetheart, do ya… do ya remember me?"

Ford blinked at her and sat up a little. "Of course I do, Hephzibah. How c…"

Hephzie held her husband closer and tighter, hugging him so he couldn't sit up, and she struggled not to cry. She desperately didn't want to, but a small part of her wanted to cry tears of joy that her beloved husband remembered her. Her body seemed to have a mind of its own as a few tears fell on Ford's chest. He was in shock, but hugged her back nonetheless. From over her body, Ford saw Stan standing over Fiddleford, their friend on the floor, and they were both looking at him like he had died and come back.

"What on Earth is going on?" Ford asked as he rubbed Hephzie's back. "Stan and I were just downstairs and now…" He slowed to a stop. Hephzie was scared that he didn't remember her. Ford couldn't remember coming up the elevator from the lab. He couldn't remember coming into the living room and collapsing, but maybe there was a reason for that, the same reason Stan was standing over a shaking Fiddleford. "What happened to me?" Ford dared to ask.

"Ask your assistant." Stan growled and turned over the busted light bulb of the memory gun with his foot. When Ford heard the glass, he craned his neck to look over Hephzie and he finally saw the sad remains of Fiddleford's memory gun, the same one that Stan and Fiddleford swore they destroyed.

Ford stared at his friend, their eyes locked. Fiddleford looked terrified, but also incredibly guilty. Had the palm reader been right? Was Bill right? Had asking Fiddleford to come and help him been a mistake that almost destroyed him? And here he thought Fiddleford was his friend, his best friend, right beside his twin brother. He considered him family. Fiddleford's own son called him uncle, like Shermie's son did. Ford didn't know if he was more angry or sad over this betrayal.

"Fiddleford," Ford said quietly in an unbelieving tone. "What did you do?"

Fiddleford looked close to tears. "I'm… I'm sorry."

* * *

 _"Bill, you were right." Stanford said mournfully at his Muse. "Fiddleford couldn't be trusted. I was a fool to think for one minute that he was my friend."_

 _"Yeah, finally caught Glasses in the act, huh?" Bill asked, an elbow on his chair and a fist on his triangular body._

 _Stanford looked up at him. "You knew?! You knew he was erasing my family's memories and you didn't tell me?!" He asked, both hurt and angry. How many people were stabbing him in the back?!_

 _Bill put his hands up in surrender. "Whoa, there, IQ! Just cuz I'm an all seeing eye doesn't mean I know where to look! I see everything I choose to look at, as long as it's in the present. I can't see what Glasses did in the past without looking into anyone's minds, and I can't see what he'll do in the future, but I can see the present if I choose to look there. And let's not forget the fact that I did try to warn you about this." Bill added bitterly._

 _Stanford winced over losing his temper with his true friend. "I'm sorry, you're right. You were only trying to help. Well, I know progress we'll be slower without him, but Stanley and I are almost done and we can do it without him."_

 _"Not so fast, Sixer." Bill said and held up a hand. "You really think it's a good idea to kick Glasses off the project? I mean, think about how sour things went the last time you kicked someone to the curb?"_

 _Stanford froze. That was hardly the same thing! Pa kicked Stanley out, not Stanford! Sure, he hadn't done anything to stop it, Stanford will admit to that and apologize for that, but he had gone out and looked for his twin the next day with Hephzibah's help, hadn't he? Stanford still didn't believe Stanley's claims that it was an accident one-hundred percent, but he found it hardly mattered now. Fiddleford, on the other hand, had done what he did on purpose. There was no excuse. Still…_

 _"Well, what do you suggest that we do?" Stanford asked. "We can't trust him."_

 _"Can you really trust anyone?" Bill asked in return. "Look, Muscles destroyed the gun, right? Glasses can't destroy any more memories, and - you can hate this as much as you want, Fordsie, but it's the truth - you need his help to finish the portal, and at this point he owes you. You're already way behind schedule as it is. Just keep a close eye on Glasses, get the portal done, and then you can get rid of him. You know the old saying, keep your friends close and your enemies closer."_

 _Stanford hated the idea of keeping that filthy traitor under his roof for a minute longer, but Bill, as always, was right. "Okay. We're nearly finished with the portal. I can't forgive him, but that doesn't mean I can't work with him. When the project's over, he can do whatever he wants. I don't care, as long as he stays the hell away from my family."_

* * *

 _"I'll have to thank Glasses for this if I ever get to meet him face-to-face!"_


	42. Enemies

A few days after the destruction of the memory gun, the coldness of the basement in the mid-January winter was nothing compared to the coldness between the Pines twins and Fiddleford.

The engineer's anxiety was worse now more than ever. He felt like he was always being watched, which was somewhat true. If Stan wasn't towering over him with his arms crossed over his chest or scowling at him from a distance, Maddie was giving Fiddleford a pleading look to explain what was going on, but he didn't have the heart to admit what he had done and explain everything to his wife. Hephzie and Ford gave looks that could kill. Fiddleford knew they were disappointed, but they were like Stan and were more inclined to make it clear how mad they were at him, and for good reason.

What Fiddleford had said was true; he had never intended to use it on someone who wanted to keep their memories. He had planned to use the gun to help people. It had helped him and it had helped that Ivan fellow. It could've helped others, but what Ford said came true. That power fell into the wrong hands and Fiddleford had taken the fight approach to the fight, flight, or freeze reaction to fear. Terrified that his friends would take the memory gun away or destroy it, sentencing him to his nightmares and visions and sleepless nights, he had shot them. Fiddleford had erased Stan's memory, aimed the gun at Hephzie, and shot Ford. For someone that hated to shoot innocent creatures, he sure had an itchy trigger finger. Maybe he deserved his mounting anxiety and his nightmares. Maybe he deserved the hell the Lord was punishing him with. Maybe everyone would be better off without him.

And yet, the Pines were still keeping him around. Ford had called the McGucket household the next day when Fiddleford didn't show up to work, lying in bed and curled up to try to be rid of the haunting thoughts without the memory gun. Fiddleford came to the shack at once, shaking, when Maddie went into their bedroom and told him that Ford wanted him to come. Not knowing what to expect, Fiddleford soon found himself sitting on the couch in the living room with Ford standing in front of him.

"What you did was unforgivable." Ford said point-blank with his arms crossed over his chest. "You violated my brother's mind and tried to do the same to my wife."

"I know," Fiddleford said quickly and tried to apologize. "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry for what I did t'y'all, n' I don't know how I can make it up..."

"You can't." Ford interrupted coldly, freezing Fiddleford solid. "I don't want your pathetic apology. I won't accept it. I thought I could trust you, but you've proven that I was sorely mistaken and I see no point in trusting you again. Erasing my memories, I can swallow that, but I can't trust you not to hurt my family again."

Will God just strike Fiddleford down and send him to Hell, already?! It would be far more merciful to do that than to have him go through this, having his best friend, someone he considered a brother, telling him that there was no hope for their friendship to last in the future.

"However," Ford added reluctantly. He pinched the bridge of his nose, closed his eyes,, took in a deep breath, and let it out before continuing. "The displeasing fact is that we still need you in order to finish the portal. We're almost done and I cannot risk losing everything due to your backstabbing decisions. So, here's the deal: you owe me and my family your help. You're going to keep working on the portal under Stan and I's close supervision. You're going to put forth your best work and you're not going to sabatosh the portal. After it's completed, you can do whatever you damn well please, as long as you stay the hell away from my family. You got it?"

Fiddleford was shaking so much it was a miracle he could nod. "Y-Yes. I got it."

Ford uncrossed his arms and gestured his head for the hallway so Fiddleford would know to lead the way to the basement. Clearly, he didn't trust Fiddleford enough to turn his back on him. "Good. We've got a lot of work to do."

And so for a few days this torturous strategy of work went on. Fiddleford worked as little hours as possible, coming in around ten o'clock and leaving around four. It wasn't like in the late summer when the trio worked cheerfully, cracking jokes, telling stories, playing music and singing off key, and having a good time. It was too quiet down in the basement now, words only spoken if necessary. Even the loud mouth of the three, Stan, didn't have the heart to spit out a bad joke or share a story anymore. He had tried, at first, to socialize with his brother and kill the silence, but Ford was clearly in no mood to talk and Stan didn't fancy carrying a conversation alone.

Hephzie hated the fact that the twins were working with Fiddleford. It drove her insane to think of her family trapped in a cold basement alone with that monster while she was at the hospital, but it wasn't like she could call off work and keep an eye on the men. She was forced to trust that the twins were watching each other's backs. Hephzie was not only mad at Fiddleford, but mad at Stan and Ford for even considering letting Fiddleford into the house.

"Why the HELL would even let him set foot into our house?!" Hephzie snapped at Ford over dinner, just two days after his talk with Fiddleford.

Ford raised an eyebrow at his wife and said calmly, "As much as I hate to admit it, Hephzibah, we need him in order to complete the portal. Why else would I have asked him to come up here in the first place?"

"But you're almost done!" Hephzie yelled. "Can't y'all finish it without him?! Ya know what they say, when life gives ya lemons…"

"Don't make lemonade! Make life takes the lemons back! Get mad! I don't want your damn lemons, what am I supposed to do with these?!" Ford yelled.

"Okay, you've officially skipped out on so much sleep you're mentally insane." Hephzie sneered. "Look, we have a little extra money tucked away. Just hire a new engineer!"

Ford laughed harshly at the idea. "And explain to him, what, exactly? 'Welcome aboard, new comer! We're opening a gateway to other worlds, an interdimensional portal, in order to prove a theory that will put our names in history!' We can't trust…"

"Well ya can't trust Fiddleford, neither!" Hephzie shouted. "What am I supposed to do with myself if I come home one day n y'all don't remember a damn thang?!"

Ford held up a hand and growled, "Please don't try to make this about you."

"Oh, how can I?! It's always about _you_! Your stupid theory n' your stupid portal, how you'd be much better off rubbin' elbows with better people!"

"Well it's better than sitting in the middle of nowhere and rotting away! We're changing the world! What are you doing with your life?!"

"I'm savin' lives instead of ruinin' 'em!"

Ford and Hephzie actually had a nasty fight that night, standing, yelling, pointing, and saying hurtful things. Stan, who had been sitting at the table when it started, knew better than to intervene and he slipped away to his room after he was done eating. He could hear every word from his bedroom and he didn't know if he wanted to tune them out with his radio or listen with some popcorn.

In the end, Ford put his foot down and screamed, "LISTEN, HEPHZIE! YOU HAD NO PART IN THIS PROJECT UNTIL NOW, SO KEEP IT THAT WAY AND JUST STAY OUT OF MY WAY!"

Hephzie threw her hands up in the air and screeched, "FINE! DO WHAT YA WANT! JUST DON'T COME CRYIN' TO ME WHEN YOU'RE BETRAYED, _AGAIN_!" And she stormed out of the kitchen, went to her bedroom, and slammed the door shut with a loud bang that shook the whole shack.

Now Hephzie hardly saw Ford; either she was at work or in the bedroom alone. Ford worked so hard now that he never slept, and if he did he took naps in the thinking parlor or in bed when Hephzie was at work or down in the basement. Ford was in a bad mood, Hephzie had rubbed him the wrong way, and he didn't feel like taking the time to mend that relationship with more pressing matters to deal with. Portal first, people later. That seemed to be Ford's protocol as of late.

Stan saw how quickly his brother was falling apart, but every time he tried to intervene, Ford shot him this deadly look that made Stan ask himself if he wanted to be the next Fiddleford, and so, bitter and hurt, Stan raised his hands in the air and let his idiot twin do what he wanted. If Ford wanted to crash and burn, so be it. It's not like Stan was much good for anything other than moving around heavy parts, right?

Even with Fiddleford still working on the portal, they were steadily falling behind. Ford needed one last shove, one more push, to finish. He just wanted this portal to be done so his life could get back on track. His prayers were answered when he fell asleep in the thinking parlor, on top of his work, and found himself in the Mindscape, once again, with his beloved Muse, his only true friend in the world.

* * *

Hephzie lied in bed with Everest by her side. The puppy stuck with her like glue when she was home. She wondered if it was because he felt neglected with the men working so hard down in the basement. Hephzie enjoyed Everest's company in bed and she loved her pet very much, but he wasn't Ford. As stupid and weak and feminine as it sounded, she missed him. Hephzie missed the way he would sometimes spoon her in his sleep. Hephzie missed being able to turn and curl up again his strong chest. Hephzie even missed his stupid snores. God, she was the world's stupidest woman!

Not only was Hephzie tired physically from a long day of work and unpeaceful nights of sleep, but she was tired emotionally. She wanted this to be over. She wanted her husband back and her brother back and… she didn't know what she wanted from Fiddleford except she did know she wanted certainty. Was he in or out? Gone or staying? Hephzie needed confirmation of what was happening with him so she could either say goodbye or talk to him again. And if all Hephzie had to do was swallow her pride and agree that Ford was right, than fine.

Hephzie slowly got up and Everest got up on all fours and wagged his little tail. The doctor got a look at the clock - 12:03 - as she got up and slipped on her light-purple robe to beat the chilliness that came upon the house on winter nights. Hephzie had to disappoint the Saint Bernard, for she wasn't about to throw a toy or play with him. She was going to the thinking parlor.

Hephzie knocked quietly on the closed door to alert Ford in case he was awake that she was coming in, and then she slowly cracked the door open. "Ford?"

She saw him sitting at the desk, working. He was writing in his journal, but judging by the stacks of paper and the piles of work on his desk and in the parlor, he had been working hard for awhile and was taking a break to catalog his thoughts in his beloved book. He didn't even look at her as she opened the door wider and entered the door.

"Ford, we need to talk." Hephzie said calmly but unyielding. She wasn't going to yell, but they were going to talk.

She was both hurt and annoyed when Ford didn't look at her or even lift his head from his work or paused his pen. If that's how Ford was going to be, fine. Hephzie was done playing games.

The woman with dreadlocks sat on the couch behind Ford, his back to her, and she said, "Look, I know the last few months have been hard. First the Gremloblin, then we lost… then Shifty, n' now Fiddleford. It's a lot to take in in a few months, I get it, I do, but what you're doin'... ya can't ignore your problems by burying your head in this project, Ford. At some point, you're gonna have to talk to Fiddleford n' figure out if ya still wanna be friends with him. Ya may not want to, but Grandpa used to say nobody gets a second chance to make new old friends."

Hephzie paused to give Ford a chance to argue with her. She kind of wished he would; it would be better than ignoring her. That shit hurt and pissed her off, goddamnit! Just keep going and hope he'll at least look at you!

"Bottom line, Fordsie," Hephzie said and look at the back of her husband's head woefully. "I miss ya. I miss havin' ya around n' I miss… I just miss my husband, is all. I'm sorry I snapped at ya, n'... whatever ya decide to do with Fiddleford, I'll support ya n' Stan, even if it means cuttin' him off. I still trust you n' I love you, n' whatever this crap is we're goin' through, we'll make it through together, just like everythang else."

Ford hadn't changed from before Hephzie's monologue. He still wrote in his journal and still had his back to her and was still ignoring her.

"Hello?" Hephzie snapped and sat up on the couch. "Are ya not even gonna look at me?"

Ford still didn't respond. Hephzie growled in her throat and stood up. She stomped to her husband and almost put her hand on his shoulder and spun him around to face her like a man, but Ford's hand grabbed her wrist unexpectedly and held her tightly.

Hephzie's heart stopped out of fear and she was shocked by how tight Ford's hold was on her. It actually hurt a little. "Ford! What…"

Ford finally looked up at her. His glasses were folded and on the desk. His grin was wide and his teeth were exposed. His eyes were glowing yellow and his pupils were slitted like a cat's. Hephzie stared at how his eyes glowed and she knew immediately that, even if she wasn't sure what was wrong with him, Ford wasn't all there. Something was very, very wrong.

"Let go!" Hephzie yelled and used her free right hand to give a good ole fashioned Pines-style right-hook. All those years of watching the twins' boxing matches had taught her a thing or two.

She got Ford right on the left cheek and he let go of her. Hephzie backed away and rubbed her left wrist as it ached. Hopefully she wouldn't have a bruise. Ford stood up slowly, pushing the desk chair back, and rubbed his cheek. His creepy, unsettling smile never faltered.

"Feisty," A voice that wasn't Ford came from Ford's mouth. "I like it. No wonder Sixer fell for you."

Hephzie understood at once that something had possessed her husband's body. Was he even aware of what was happening? Had some ghost or new anomaly taken advantage of Ford's drowsy state and found a new home? Hephzie was determined to play it cool since she was afraid of losing Ford forever if she didn't. "Who are you?" She asked, let go of her wrist, and stood firm.

"Name's Bill Cipher, madam." Bill said and bowed mockingly at her. "Master of the Mind and Muse to the brilliant, at your service. Well, more specifically Fordsie's service, but to you and Stanley's, too, I guess."

"I'm sorry, what?" Hephzie said with a scowl still on her face. "A Muse? Like in Greek Mythology?"

"Hey, hey, look who's as smart as they are beautiful." Bill flattered and leaned an elbow against the back of his chair, using Ford's body to stand in a more swave position. "Your hubby here called for my help and that's what I'm here for! With Sixer's brilliant mind, my direction, and Glasses and Muscles for assistance, we're gonna change the world for the better!"

"I see." Hephzie said and crossed her arms over her chest. "N' why should I believe that?" Her instinct told her not to trust Bill. She wondered how in the world Ford didn't feel that same feeling or ignored it if he did, but something in Bill's eye and the fact that he was in her husband's body put a sour taste in her mouth and made her skin crawl. Her animal instinct told her not to tolerate this… this thing, no matter what.

Bill laughed, and Hephzie's suspicions not to trust him were confirmed as she shivered unpleasantly over the sound that erupted from Ford's mouth. "Sixer trusts me. Isn't that enough for ya, Half-Pint?"

Hephzie's scowl dropped as she was called a name she hadn't heard since her grandfather died. Her scowl returned ten times angier and she demanded, "Nobody calls me that! How do ya know that name?!"

"Oh, I know lots of things." Bill said and his eyes went from yellow and silted to small, round pupils with flashes of every damn thing on planet Earth for coloration. " **Lots of things.** "

Hephzie's jaw dropped uncomfortably and she wanted nothing more than for Bill to be gone. The doctor regained her confidence and yelled, "Well then you'll know that ya ain't welcome here! Get out!"

"Aw, but that would hurt Fordsie's feelings." Bill cooed mockingly and stepped a little closer to Hephzie. "Wonder why he never told you about me? Cuz he knew you'd do this, Sweet Cheeks. He knew you'd try to ruin this for him. Don't you want him to be happy? Don't you want his dreams of changing the world to happen for him? See, I know a lot of things, so I know you care about him for whatever," Bill then quickly grabbed Hephzie's left wrist again and squeezed so tightly Hephzie stiffened. She held her breath to keep from showing any pain. Bill's eyes glowed menacingly, though the cruel smile stayed, and he said in a quiet, deep voice, "So it you really care about your hubby then I suggest **you stay outta the way before I make you**."

Bill's grip on her tightened and Hephzie even bent her knees a little to try to ease the tension in her wrist. "Keep your slimy fingers off of me!" She growled and she kneed Bill in the balls.

Bill didn't double over, but he did let go of Hephzie due to the shack, and then he laughed. He laughed. "Wow! Pain IS hilarious! Who knew?!" Bill then slapped himself across the face once, then twice, cackling as he did so and clenching Ford's hands.

Hephzie, bewildered, turned and ran out of the parlor. Her mind seemed to have gone blank except for one thought: get away, get away, get away! She slammed the door closed and ran to her bedroom. She slammed that door shut and locked it, not caring about how terrified Everest was or how he curled up into a ball of fur or how he trembled on her pillow. Hephzie's adrenaline kept her going as her hands shook and she got dressed. She threw off her pajamas and changed into a gray sweater and black leggings. She put on a pair of blue jeans to beat the cold, grabbed Everest, and ran for the door.

Once Hephzie was at the door, she slipped on her coat and scarf, bundled the pup to her chest, and grabbed her purse and keys. She paused when her eyes landed on the stack of sticky notes and the pen that sat on the little end table they kept by the coat rack and under the mirror in the hall. The Pines often left notes on the mirror to let everyone in the house know where they were. If Ford and Stan had gone out on an expedition and knew Hephzie would be home before them, they'd leave a note so she wouldn't worry. Hephzie sometimes left a note before leaving work, but because they knew where she was the note might read _"Have a good day!"_ or _"Stay out of trouble!"_ Hephzie took the time to write a quick note, stuck it on the mirror, slipped her motorcycle helmet on, and left.

* * *

Stan woke up to the usual sound of his alarm. It would be another thirty minutes before he would roll out of bed and leave his room, in a white undershirt, blue boxers, and his maroon robe. One quick look into the empty kitchen told Stan that he'd have to make his own breakfast and he almost fully stepped into the room when something from out of the corner of his eye finally registered. The youngest Pines twin went to the hall mirror and took the yellow sticky note. His eyes widened and he shoved the note in the pocket of his robe.

"Oh, no."

Stan hurried to Hephzie and Ford's bedroom, but the door was open and no one was in it. Stan's heart raced as he went to the thinking parlor, muttering "No, no, no" to himself, and he lifted a fist to hammer on the door, but he stopped just in time as he thought about it. With everything that had happened to Ford recently, this was the last thing he needed. This had to be some sort of mistake.

Stan leaned on the wall, next to the door, and pulled the note out. In Hephzie's distinct handwriting, it read, _"I'm sorry. I'll be back tonight."_

What the hell was that supposed to mean?! Hephzie was sorry?! Sorry for what?! Stan growled like an angry bulldog and tried to calm down and think about it. He knew Hephzie better than anyone… okay, second-best. Why would Hephzie be sorry? If Stan had to bet money on it, he'd say she was sorry for scaring the crap out of anyone that woke up to find her missing. Yeah, okay, that was why she said "I'll be back tonight." Hephzie was sorry she had scared them, she had left for work early, and would be back tonight. She worked a ten-to-ten today. Maybe she went out for breakfast. She was probably at Greasy's or at that truck stop and enjoying some alone time.

Stan prayed that was it. That had to be it. If that wasn't why Hephzie was sorry, why else would she be? Was this her way of apologizing about yelling at them for letting Fiddleford work with them? Was she saying that they were right and that she was sorry? Was she apologizing to Ford about their big fight? Or… what if she was sorry that she had left? If it had been just _"I'm sorry"_ , Stan would have no choice but to assume that, but Hephzie said she would be back tonight. Stan just hoped that when she came home tonight she would stay and not just pack up some things. His fear escalated quickly when he took into account that Everest was missing.

No! Hephzie wouldn't do that! Hephzibah Pines was a better woman than that! Things might be bad, but they weren't that bad! Hephzie wouldn't just take Everest and… Those four years on the streets had taught Stan a lot of things, and one of those things he was gonna put into good use: trust your gut, and right now his gut was telling him that something was wrong.

Stan trapped on the parlor door calmly. "Hey, Ford, I'm going out for breakfast. I'll be back by the time the twerp gets here."

"Okay, Stanley." Ford's voice could be heard, but Stan didn't waste any time to invite Ford to go with him.

Stan hurried into his room, got dressed to beat the cold, and left the shack for the Stanmobile. The snow was still on the ground, but no flakes had fallen in a few days. The snow was now like ice, hard and unmoving, but thank God the roads were clear and safe. Stan couldn't afford to waste time shoveling the driveway again. He knew he wouldn't be able to do anything until he found his sister.

Ignoring the note for five minute, Stan asked himself one important question: if Hephzie wasn't at home, where was she? Stan's first guess was the hospital. The car radio told Stan that it was eight-thirty. He had roughly two hours to find Hephzie. He raced to the hospital, but saw no sign of Hephzie's motorcycle. To double check, Stan even went up to her floor at the hospital (the fifth floor) and asked the receptionist if a Hephzibah Pines had locked in, but she hadn't. Stan then decided to drive to any places he thought Hephzie might be and look for her bike.

Hephzie wasn't at her favorite coffee and doughnut shop, where sometimes she'd stop on the way to work for breakfast. She wasn't at Greasy's. Stan was just about ready to make himself go to the McGucket house when he decided to check a little place by Hephzie's workplace. The hospital was just a few minutes away from Route 14, making it convenient for people from Gravity Falls and other neighboring towns if needed. Just at the edge of Gravity Falls and seated next to the giant Paul Bunyan statue, was a cozy little truck stop called the Triple Digits. Ford liked it for their industrial-strength coffee. Stan liked it for their bacon and fun truck drivers who always had fun stories to tell. Hephzie liked it for their music and the wait staff.

Stan drove by the truck stop and saw a row of motorcycles parked outside. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but he could've sworn that one of them looked familiar. He decided to check and so Stan made a u-turn that almost caused a wreck and pulled into a handicapped parking space. He pulled his brown-leather jacket a little tighter around himself as a gust of cold wind blew by when he stepped out of the warm car. He rubbed his stiff hands together and walked into the truck stop. He was ready to collapse on the floor when he saw his sister sitting at the bar.

Hephzie was holding her head with one hand, her other lying on her elbow. Her black-leather jacket was hanging on the back of her seat and her black high-heel boots were crossed by her stool. Her back was to the door, but from what Stan could tell, she was watching the open kitchen as cooks made the food right in front of the customers. Hephzie was sitting alone, a seat of either side of her empty, but when a biker guy two seats down offered to make her refill of coffee Irish again, she kindly declined and poured maple syrup into her mug. Stan smiled sadly at his sister and took the seat on her left side. He picked up the menu and didn't speak until a waitress asked what he wanted.

"I'll take a coffee, thanks."

Hephzie choked on her mug and finally looked over at him, it dawning on her who had sat next to her. Stan looked at her with a blank expression while she wiped her chin clean of coffee and she stared at him with wide eyes. "Stan, wh-what are ya tryin' to do, gimme a heart attack?"

"Well, I guess we're even then, huh?" Stan sneered as the waitress poured him a mug of coffee and gave him a small bowl full of creamers. "I wake up to find you and Everest missing and a note that says 'I'm sorry. I'll be back tonight'. I didn't know if you had gone to work early or had thrown yourself into the Bottomless Pit."

Hephzie rubbed her forehead, still holding her head, and looked away in shame. "I'm sorry, Stan. I never meant to hurt ya like that."

Stan's frustration died like someone had run over it. He gently put a hand on her back and rubbed it when he heard how defeated she sounded. That just wasn't Hephzie. "Whoa, easy. It's okay, sis. Ya just scared me, that's all. Where's Everest?"

"With Tate." Hephzie answered, still not looking at her brother. "I needed him to babysit, just in case."

"Just in case of what?" Stan asked, now scared again that Hephzie might actually… "Hephzibah, you're not seriously…"

Hephzie finally looked at him and she lifted her head a little from her hand to talk more direct. "No! No, Stanley, I… I would never… I'm not goin' anywhere. I promise, ya n' Ford are stuck with me."

"Good." Stan said firmly and moved his hand from her back to her opposite shoulder. "Then why'd you make Twerp Jr. babysit our dog?" He asked good-naturedly.

Hephzie took in a deep breath and drank some more coffee. Stan took the chance to do the same. He liked his black. When Hephzie sat her mug down, she said in a quiet voice, "I think Ford's in trouble."

Stan was glad he had swallowed before she spoke. If not, he would have choked. "Trouble? Whaddya mean?"

Hephzie paused for a minute when a waffle was placed in front of her and she thanked the waitress. She then took Stan's order - just a plate of bacon - and left them alone. Stan looked at Hephzie and opened his mouth to repeat himself, but he saw something that made his blood boil: when Hephzie pulled back the sleeves of her gray sweater a little to keep them from getting in syrup, he saw a little discoloration in her dark skin. Stan grabbed her left hand before she could pick up her fork, but Hephzie's brown eyes widened again and she yanked her hand free and then pulled her sleeves back over her wrists.

"Hephzie!" Stan hissed, not wanting to draw too much attention to themselves, but this was important! "Lemme see!"

"Stan!"

Stan was quicker this time and grabbed her hand, trying not to hurt her but he needed to see it! Dear God, please let him be wrong! Stan held her palm with one hand and gently used the other hand to pull back her sleeve to her elbow. It was Stan's turn to widen his eyes and stare at the ugly bruise Hephzie had on her wrist. What was disturbing was the shape of the bruise. This wasn't Hephzie banging her arm against a counter. It looked like someone had…

"Hephzie, what happened?" Stan asked as gently as he could, but he was far angrier than he had been all week, maybe even his whole life, and he was ready to hunt down the bastard that hadn't treated his sister right and make him pay.

Hephzie bit her lip and Stan calmed down even more when he saw the look in her eyes. Hephzie was one of the strongest people he had ever met, but her eyes told him that she was afraid. She was terrified. Stan was ready to let go of her, but Hephzie squeezed his hand back, laid their hold on the table, and began to tell him what happened last night.

* * *

Ford was delighted when he woke up to find so much work accomplished. Their plan to test on the portal tomorrow night was going to happen on time and happen flawlessly. He was happy to let Stan go out to breakfast and even opened his mouth to invite himself, but soon Stan was gone. Ford was in too good of a mood to let that bother him, so he decided to spend some time drinking coffee with his wife before she went to work. The scientist was surprised when she wasn't in bed or taking a shower or in the kitchen. He checked outside and found that both the Diablo and the motorcycle were gone. No note on the mirror, either. She must have gotten a call from work and had to go early. Ford made himself some coffee and happily sat in the kitchen to drink and relax a little before work.

Ford glanced up at the clock when he heard the front door open. It was fifteen minutes before ten. Stan was back right on time. "Morning, Stanley." Ford called when he heard the familiar footsteps "Slept well?"

Stan appeared at the doorway of the kitchen, frowning at his brother, and asked, "Stanford, who's Bill Cipher?"


	43. Frontline

Ford blinked at his twin. If this was a cartoon, they might have heard a record screeching, but this wasn't a cartoon. Ford's first question was how in the world Stan knew that name?! Had he read it in one of Ford's journals? But Ford was so careful to just call Bill his Muse! Ford's heart skipped a beat when he wondered if Stan had met Bill last night.

The scientist swallowed, making his Adam's Apple bobble, and he asked, "W-What do you mean, Stanley?"

"Don't play dumb." Stan growled and stepped into the kitchen. "Who the fuck is Bill?"

Ford's eyes narrowed at his brother's tone and he sat a little straighter. "I'm not sure how you know who Bill is, but I can assure you that he's my friend and…"

"Your _friend_?!" Stan snapped and walked up to the table. He planted his hands firmly on the wooden table with a loud smack and yelled, "That guy is no friend, Ford, trust me! I know what it's like to have shitty friends! I know a handful of 'friends' who would sell me out for a nickel, and I can tell you right now that that little fuck is _not_ a friend!"

"Stanley, calm down," Ford said firmly and stood up. He had suspected from the beginning that Stan might act like this, hence why Ford kept Bill a secret, but now that Stan knew, Ford might as well try to explain this to his clearly over-protective brother. "You don't even know Bill…"

"I don't need to know him!" Stan yelled. "He used your body to hurt my sister and enjoys hurting you! That's all I need to know!"

"Stan…" Ford, once again, was floored. He allowed the deafening silence to stay for a moment as Stan's word processed, seeping into Ford's skin like a deadly chemical. "Wh-what?"

"Yeah, your pal left a good shiner on my sister's wrist last night when she went to go talk to you, and apparently he's a sick little fuck who thinks pain is hilarious and made you slap yourself," Stan growled menacingly. "So excuse me if I'm not all keen on being buddy-buddy with the guy."

Ford shook his head slowly and pocketed his hands in his trenchcoat, more concerned with the idea that his Muse hurt Hephzie rather than the idea that Bill was a masochist. "No. No, Bill wouldn't hurt her. I'm sure it was an accident…"

"An accident?! Trust me, I know a thing or two about accidents, but how the hell do you _accidentally_ grab someone's wrist and hold 'em so tight you leave a bruise?!"

"Bill hasn't had a physical form in decades." Ford rationalized. "He must not know his own strength." That had to be it, that had to be! There's no way Bill would ever hurt Hephzie!

"Stanford!" Stan shouted, his temper rising to a dangerous degree. Ford actually had to try to think of a time when Stan was this angry. Sure, he might get pissed if the local teenagers prank him or if his team doesn't win a game, but this wasn't pissed or annoyed and yelling. Stan was _furious_. "He used your own body to hurt Hephzie! Doesn't that bother you?!" He yelled.

Ford felt like throwing up when he heard that. For a moment, his cruel mind made him imagine a scene in which he was grabbing Hephzie and squeezing her, hurting her. If Ford thought it would happen again he'd chop his own hand off. "O-Of course it bothers me. Sh-she's my wife."

"Yeah, I know." Stan said in a low voice. "So I would like to think that you care a lot more about her than this Bill asshole…"

"I do!" Ford snapped, insulted that Stan would dare to think otherwise. "I love her! You know that, Stanley! You married us!"

"I know, so stick to those vows you crazy love birds made and stand by her side and walk with her through thick and thin!" Stan said warningly and pointed a finger at him. "Cuz if you don't, after I hunt down Bill and kick his ass, I'm hunting _you_ down and kicking _your_ ass!"

Ford scowled at his brother and crossed his arms over his chest. "I thought you wanted to talk about Bill, not my marriage."

"I'm getting to that." Stan sneered and kept both hands planted on the table. "First off, what the hell is Bill Cipher?"

"He's a Muse." Ford said in an exasperated tone. "He's been helping me with the portal, he's been helping us with the portal. He even chose us for this special task and has given us clear instructions on how to change the world for the better."

"Now, hold up," Stan instructed and removed his hands from the table so he could stand up straight. "You're telling me the portal wasn't even your idea?! Some scaling fuck gave ya the idea and told you it was going to change the world for the better?!"

Well, it sounded a lot worse when you put it like that. "He's trying to help us prove my theory. If this portal works, as it should when we test it tomorrow night, it'll prove my Grand Unified Theory of Weirdness. All of our troubles will be over…"

"Okay, first off, that isn't true." Stan snapped. "Finishing the portal won't fix what Fiddleford did or make amends with him, finishing the portal won't fix whatever shit is going on between you and Hephzie, and finishing the portal won't guarantee life won't ever be hard again. Don't go turning this project into a saint that'll fix everything, cuz it won't. Second of all, that's a scam if I've ever heard one!"

Ford opened his mouth to argue about how he knew not all of their problems would be fixed when the portal was finished, but most of them will be, but that argument died in his throat over Stan's last comment. "Don't be paranoid, Stanley." Was all he could think to say.

Stan barked out a laugh that actually sounded slightly sincere. "Oh, MAN! YOU'RE telling ME not to be paranoid! Wow, okay!" Stan quit laughing and resumed his serious stature. "Who would know better about pulling scams than me, Brainiac?! I've managed to get people to buy shammies when I told 'em astronauts used 'em to clean cranberry stains on the moon! Hephzie told me what your friend promised you, and let me tell you that I've never heard bigger bullshit in my life!"

"No, you're wrong!" Ford snapped at his brother, losing his thin patience. "Bill's my friend, my Muse. I'm sorry for what he did to Hephzie and I'm sorry that she got hurt, and when she comes home I'll apologize to her, but you two can't let a horrible introduction sway you from the truth."

"No, _you_ can't let some little shit biscuit's flattery keep you from seeing the truth!" Stan corrected. "Ford, you're a fucking Pines, for Moses' sake! Are you seriously telling me you don't know a scam when you see one?! Hephzie said that Bill told her to stay outta the way or he'd make her stay outta the way! If you wanna stick by this asshole's side, fine, but make sure you know who you're siding with front and back!" And before Ford could even defend himself, Stan went into his room and slammed the door closed. Slamming doors was a very active sound in the shack these days.

Ford felt like his head was spinning. The kitchen was spinning, like a merry-go-round. He shakingly sat back down on the table and held his cold mug with both hands as he tried to think.

According to Stan and Hephzie, Bill had hurt Hephzie last night. She had tried to talk to Ford, met Bill instead, and he grabbed her wrist, made a bruise, and told her to get out of the way or he would make her. It was like with Fiddleford all over again. That overwhelming feeling of betrayal, that sickening feeling of anger, that dizzying feeling of guilt and sadness. Hephzie, yet again, had been hurt because of Ford, be it by his actions or his lack of actions. Bill had hurt her, physically and, no doubt, emotionally. Wait, was that why she had been gone this morning? Had she left her own home, unable to stand being in the same presence of Bill after what happened? Get out of the way or he'll make you.

Ford didn't want to believe it. He wanted Stan to be wrong. He wanted Hephzie to come home early from work and explain that she had banged her wrist on a counter. He wanted Hephzie to happily tell him that she had met Bill and that he was an absolute gentleman to her. He wanted Hephzie to be happy that he had made such a good friend and for Stan to follow suit, but that was never going to happen.

Stan also suspected that Bill was deceiving Ford. About what, exactly? Did Stan think the portal wasn't going to work at all? Did he think it would lead somewhere else? Or maybe Stan was just angry at Bill and wanted him long gone and was willing to do whatever it takes to make Ford get rid of him. Whether Bill was tricking Ford or not, he had still hurt Hephzie, and as much as Ford hated to, he had to confront him about this.

Adrenaline and anger fueled his body far more powerful than any coffee in the world. What Bill did was unacceptable. Ford was going to make sure it never happened again, one way or another. The scientist stood up and left the kitchen. He used the password to open the door to the basement, entered another password for the elevator and entered. While inside, he plunged his hands into his pockets and something cold grazed his fingers. The ring the palm-reader had given him. Ford pulled it out and looked at the color of the stone. It was black. There was no turning back. Ford shoved the ring back in the pocket of his trenchcoat and went down to the second floor. When the house had been built, Ford had intended to use it as a separate study. While he did most of his work in the thinking parlor or in the lab where the portal was, Ford used this room for his most secret knowledge, mostly Bill.

It was like when Ford needed Bill's help when he needed a cure for zombification. As far as Ford knew, there were two ways to contact Bill after he had been summoned: fall asleep or meditate. Since Ford was too hyper to sleep, he would have to rely on his meditation to speak to Bill. Normally, Ford would take the time to light candles and properly prepare the room for a calm sesion of meditation, but he wanted to make this quick and talk to Bill now. The scientist sat crossed-legged in the middle of the room and pulled out his journal and the pen from his front pocket. He opened to a new page, a page after the one he had filled this morning about his Muse using his body, and filled it to vex his staggering emotions so he would have a clear head when he confronted Bill.

When that was done and the task was clear and in front of him, Ford left his journal in front of him, his pen bookmarking the newest entry so he could add more when he returned. Ford then lifted his hands, circled his pointer fingers and thumb until they touched, and closed his eyes. Soon the negative energy that flooded him started to calm down, like a raging storm at sea, and he was soon in his Mindscape.

* * *

Stan didn't leave his room until he really needed to, and that was when he heard Fiddleford knocking at the door. Shit, he was still coming in for work. Normally, the engineer would let himself in, but he was still on thin ice with the Pines family, and so, like a vampire, he waited until granted permission to enter the house. Stan answered the door and Fiddleford gave him a concerned look.

"Hey," He said calmly. "Hephzie dropped Everest off at our house 'round one in the mornin' n' asked Maddie n' Tate t'watch him. Is… everythang okay?"

Stan debated on what to tell Fiddleford. The retired criminal didn't trust the engineer any farther than he could throw him, but if the portal was going down in flames then Fiddleford should be given a heads-up as to what was going on. "Would you believe me if I told you your old college buddy got himself into some demon-possessing voodoo-type shit?"

Fiddleford blinked, completely throw for a loop, but then answered plainly, "After everythang I've seen in this here town, sure."

Stan decided to give Fiddleford a chance to prove he could be trusted by telling him in the living room what Hephzie told him back at the truck stop. Stan told Fiddleford about what happened to Hephzie and Bill and everything he said and did. Stan told Fiddleford about Hephzie's rash decision to make sure Everest was safe and then get some clean air and good food. Stan told Fiddleford about finding her and talking to her, and then he told Fiddleford everything he knew about Bill. Stan told Fiddleford that Ford claimed he was a Muse and that he was the one that told ford to build the portal and how to do it. Stan told Fiddleford about how he didn't trust this Bill guy for one second and he'd bet his precious Stanmobile that Bill was using his brother for some sort of shit, but when Fiddleford asked what exactly, Stan didn't have an answer.

When Stan was done, he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back on the couch. "Bet you think we're all crazy, huh?"

Fiddleford, who was sitting on the opposite end of the couch, was looking downward. He was sitting at the edge of his seat, his KBPS up to 4.7, his elbows on his shaking knees as he held his hands together, making his whole body shake. Fiddleford was too busy letting all of this frightening demon-stuff sink in to notice. He looked up at Stan and said, "Well, you'd lose that bet, cuz I believe ya."

Stan didn't smile, but he didn't scowl, either. He gave a short nod of approval and stood up. "Let's see if we can Ford's head out of his ass long enough to see what's going on."

The two went downstairs, guessing that Ford had already begun work, but they found the basement to be empty and quiet. Stan and Fiddleford did a quick search of the house for him; Stan checked his bedroom and Fiddleford checked the thinking parlor, but there was no sign of Ford. Stan was getting sick and tired of people disappearing. Fiddleford then reminded Stan that they never checked his private study on the second floor of the basement, so they went back to the elevator and through the wooden door.

"There he is!" Stan said and they stepped into the room. He and Fiddleford's eyes widened at the artifacts, posters, statues, and carpet of a triangle with one eye, a top hat, and a bow tie. The eye appeared yellow and the pupil was always narrow like a cat's. Stan groaned. "Aw, seriously?"

Fiddleford stepped up to Ford, who was meditating, and said, "Stanford? Stanford, c'mon. Ya need t'wake up, feller." No response. He must be ignoring him.

Stan bent his knees next to Fiddleford so he was eye level with his brother. "Sixer, snap outta it. We need to figure what to do about the portal." No response. Stan snapped his fingers in front of Ford's face several times, but he didn't even flinch. Stan was starting to get a little unnerved over the fact that his brother wasn't waking up. "Hey! Ford! Wake up!" He growled and shook Ford by the shoulders, but still he didn't stir. Now Stan was beginning to panic. He grabbed one of Ford's wrists, his hands still up in the air in that stupid meditating position, and felt his pulse. It seemed fine, so Stan breathed a little easier when he knew his twin was still with him. "Something's not right here." Stan stated. "Ford's meditated before, but he always came 'round. Why isn't he waking up now?"

Fiddleford's eyes moved to the journal at Ford's feet. He had always been oddly territorial over the book, but now it was out in the open, and a pen seemed to be bookmarking a page. Fiddleford gently grabbed the journal, opened it, and read it with wide eyes.

"Stan," Fiddleford said shakingly and held the journal out to him. "Ya might wanna read this."

When Stan read what the engineer had pointed out, he made up his mind to call Hephzie before they did anything else.

It took about thirty minutes for Hephzie to leave work and come home. Meanwhile, Fiddleford and Stan tried everything to get Ford to wake up, deciding to leave what was in Ford's journal as a last result. They pinched the back of his hand, poured ice water over his head, Stan even grabbed the front of his dress shirt and slapped Ford across the face a few times, but nothing worked. His body wasn't limp, he kept his lotus-meditation position firm, but there was no resistance. It was like Ford fell asleep and couldn't wake up.

The elevator moved up to get Hephzie and the two conscious men waited for her arrival. The doctor threw the door open and ran in.

"Well?!" She demanded, looking at Stan.

"We've tried everything, and I _mean_ everything," He answered and shook his head. "But nothing's working. I even told him Einstein's ghost came to haunt him and tell him what a genius he is. Not even an eye twitch."

Hephzie walked over to her unresponsive husband and felt his pulse on his neck, gently placing two fingers without moving his head. She might be a doctor that specializes in newborns, but she could take care of humans of any age in necessary.

"If you really wanna try something new you could kiss him." Stan growled and crossed his arms over his chest.

Hephzie shot him a look. "What do ya think this is, Sleeping Beauty?" Still, it was worth a shot. She moved her hand upward to Ford's cheek to keep his head still and kissed his lips, but he never kissed back or woke up. "Damn it! Y'all said Ford had somethang in his journal?"

Stan held the book out to her. "Turns out Brainiac had a good reason for not wanting us to read this."

Hephzie took the journal into her hands and flipped through the pages, pausing every so often to read her husband's entries.

* * *

 _One more thing about me: I have a secret. Although I have relied my entire life on my intuition and intelligence to provide me with answers, two years ago I experienced a miracle while napping in the forest, and that has forever changed the way I think about the world and my place in it. I was contacted by a "Muse". I know it sounds crazy, but a strange being from a higher plane took sympathy with my search for knowledge and amazingly chose me to be a receptacle for divine and otherworldly insight._

 _As preposterous as it sounds, this being as provided me, again and again, with eerily accurate tips and predictions that have aided me in my studies. If it wasn't for this being, my wife may have remained a vampire forever._

 _Is this being a spirit, an alien, a dream, or merely part of my overactive imagination?_

 _Ultimately, interpretation is irrelevant. He is a fickle being who is unpredictable and only shows up when I least expect it. But I am always eager and ready for the next time he wishes to bestow his rare insights on my mind._

 _NOTE TO SELF: Must keep this a complete secret. If anyone finds about about this, they will surely think I am insane, and my grant money may be revoked; not even S or H can know. It is best to leave this part of my research in the shadows._

* * *

 _I awake after the longest slumber in my life with renewed energy and inspiration! My Muse, that strange, whimsical creature who speaks to me in my dreams, has returned to me at last, this time with an insight so brilliant it can only be described as divine intervention!_

* * *

 _I MUST NOT LOSE MY NERVE!_

* * *

 _I told F that with hard work anything is possible, and gave him a stack of calculations to quintuple-check. Some secrets are best kept safe that way._

* * *

 _It occurs to me that if I'm going to keep secrets from my family, I might as well begin writing certain passages of this book in code. I aced Cryptography in college, so this will be fun! (At least for me. It would be deeply tedious and annoying for someone trying to decipher it) It amuses me to think of their frustrating efforts!_

* * *

 _It was at this moment that my Muse appeared before me with a tantalizing offer! He said he took pity on my frail human body, and offered to take it over for a while to help me finish my calculations while I slept. I can think of few times I have known such gratitude - it was almost as though he had read my mind! He held out his hand and gladly accepted._

* * *

 _My assistant's and my brother's expressions when they saw me fully alert and smiling, with a huge stack of calculations by my side - I had to stifle my laughter. If only they knew the powers of my "imaginary friend"._

* * *

 _With F's betrayal, we are way behind schedule. If we don't finish soon, all may be lost. H is furious at me and we seemed to have reached a temporary agreement not to talk to each other so we won't risk saying anything we would regret. S doesn't hold the same ambition as I do about this project, but I keep reminding him that we're almost done and soon all of our hard work will pay off._

* * *

 _Once again, my Muse came when I needed him! It times like these that I feel like he's my only friend. I took his offer to let him have control of my body without hesitation and woke up to find our work nearly completed! Tomorrow night, we should be able to run our first test on the portal._

* * *

Hephzie slammed the book closed and wanted to throw it against the wall, but she settled to slamming it on a desk "Goddammit!" She yelled, kicked the desk, and clenched her fists by her side. "What the HELL, Stanford?!"

"Stanley said the same thang." Fiddleford commented quietly.

"Ya stay outta this, McGucket!" Hephzie snapped. "I mean, seriously, what the fuck?! All this time, ALL THIS TIME, Ford's been _lyin'_ to us?! For two years he's kept this from us n' trusted some fuckin' Illuminati shit over his own family?!"

"Look, I'm in the same boat as you, sis." Stan sighed and picked up the journal. "But listen to this." And he read Ford's last entry. " _I believe I have been betrayed once more. According to S, when my Muse entered my body to complete some work while I rested, H came to try to talk to me and received a bruise on her wrist and a threat to 'stay outta my way or I'll make you'. My blood boils at the thought, and though I don't want to believe it, I have to trust H and S. I failed to do so once before and it costed me greatly. I won't make that same mistake again. I wish I could tell them how sorry I am for all the pain I've caused, but there's no time. I have to stop my Muse: Bill Cipher. I must now reveal the name of my Muse, though at this point I doubt he is even a muse. I don't know what his goal is, what he's playing at, or the extent of the damage he has made by letting him into my mind, but I intend to find out. According to my research, Bill's deceit can be detected and it is possible to follow him into a person's mind and prevent his chaos. One must simply recite this incantation and place their hands on the head of whose mind they wish to enter…_ "

"We think this Bill fellow has somehow made it so Ford couldn't wake up after he confronted the demon." Fiddleford injected.

"Great, so now we gotta go inside Ford's mind n' make this three-sided devil leave us alone?" Hephzie sneered with her arms crossed over her chest.

Stan closed the book and broke into a quick speech for Hephzie, who was angry and hurt all over again, and Fiddleford, who was sitting in a chair quiet and shaking a little. "Look, I don't like this any more than you guys, but if some dream demon really is keeping Ford from waking up, then we gotta do something! We can hate one another and kick each other's asses all we want when we get Ford back, but until then we're gonna show Bill's who's boss and send him back to the hell he came from!"

Hephzie nodded in firm agreement. As angry as she was at Ford and at Fiddleford, she certainly didn't want to lose her husband. "You're right, Stan."

Stan opened Ford's journal back to the latest page. "Hey, a broken clock's right twice a day. Everyone put a hand on Ford's head. We're about to go to the most confusing, nerdy, boring place any of us have ever been: Stanford's brain."

"Say what ya want 'bout Ford, but he's anythang but borin'." Fiddleford said light-heartedly, got up and touched the side of Ford's forehead. Hephzie did the same and touched the other side of Ford's forehead. Stan towered over Fiddleford and touched the top of his brother's head, balancing the journal in his other hand.

"Videntis Omnium." Stan's eyes began to glow blue. "Magister Mentium." Fiddleford's eyes began to glow blue. "Magnesium Ad Hominem." Hephzie's eyes began to glow blue. "Magnum Opus. Habeus Corpus. Inceptus Nolanus Overratus." A strange beam of matching blue light hovered over them all, growing larger as Stan performed the spell. "MAGISTER MENTIUM! MAGISTER MENTIUM! MAGISTER MENTIUM!" The light engulfed them all and then there was darkness.


	44. Dream

They were sitting, and so they slowly stood as they took in their surroundings. The world was black and white, like a movie from their childhood, but Stan, Fiddleford, and Hephzie still had their colors. Outside of a strong, firm, plain version of the cabin stood a set of swings that looked like one swing had been broken and repaired. Old school desks, science-lab supplies, outgrown clothes, and unwanted items littered the woods farther away, like weeds in the wild. Just over the doorway of the shack it read in cursive letters, "Vwdqirug Slqhv"

"Huh." Stan said as he looked around the vast endlessness that was his brother's mind. "So this is Ford's mind. Thought it'd be a bunch of scientists and famous dudes in nice clothes sipping champagne or whatever." He reached the door first and opened it.

The three observed with wonder in their eyes at the sight before them. Rather than their home back in reality, they saw a vast, clean, marble hallway that had many staircases and smaller hallways. The floors were lined with gold and silver (assumably; there was still no color in this world). The doors were wooden with golden handles, much like the door of Ford's private study. The three stepped in, letting the simple door close behind them, and they started to think of where to go.

"Alright, if Bill's some sort of dream demon, where would he be in Ford's mind?" Hephzie thought out-loud.

"You'd think Ford would have some sort of secretary or something." Stan said and pointed a thumb to the side of the front door.

Fiddleford shrugged. "Maybe since he's asleep he doesn't have one."

"Or maybe cuz Bill's got him trapped he can't direct visitors." Hephzie growled. She stepped closer to the giant stairwell that led up to the second floor hallway, where a small row of doors were showcased. She squinted to focus her vision and she noticed that there was writing above these doorways, too, and each door was a little bit different. "Guys, look. Those doors are labeled."

Stan and Fiddleford followed Hephzie up the stairs and observed the doors. One had claw marks all over it and read "Fears". One seemed to have something that glowed golden from inside and was labeled "Hopes". The door in the middle of this row, right in front of the three dreamscapers, was a double door that was labeled "Memories".

"Ugh, why couldn't there be a "Dreams" door?" Hephzie complained.

"Cuz that would've been too easy and moved the story along too quickly." Stan said and looked at the other doors. On top of fears, hopes, and memories, there was one door that read "Documentation" and one last door that was labeled "Personality." "Bill can be behind anyone of these doors, right? I say we split up and look for him."

"Split up?" Fiddleford asked nervously. "But what if we get lost or Bill finds us before we find him? I'm not sure splittin' up is a good idea. 'Sides, haven't y'all ever seen those movies?"

"I'm kinda with Fidds on this one." Hephzie said. "Black people always die first when the gang splits up in movies."

"This isn't…" Stan growled and rubbed his forehead. "Fine. Have it your way. Let's check Ford's memories first since it's the biggest."

With no better ideas, Hephzie and Fiddleford nodded in agreement. Stan pushed the double doors open and they awed at the vast library full of books before them. In the back, stairwells that spiraled upward led to even more books. The ceiling the domed and seemed to sparkle. The whole room was brightly lit and the shelves were incredibly high with ladders to help reach taller shelves. Little hanging signs pointed out certain categories of Ford's memories, like "Childhood" "College" "Portal" and "Dates". Hephzie looked at the shelves to see if they were labeled or if the books had titled on their spines, but all were blank. Some books were thin and plain, some were decorative and expensive, and others were like textbooks. Fiddleford looked up when he thought he saw something move above their heads. He stared at an owl as it slipped a book in a high shelf with its beak. It was in shades of gray, like the rest of Ford's mind, but the animal had six primaries on its wings, the feathers on the top of its head were extra fluffy, and it had light circles around its eyes. Another owl flew by and tucked its head under its wing as it rested on a beam, taking a nap. It seemed as if this library of memories was being cared for by owls.

"No sign of Bill yet." Stan observed. "Let's look for any sign of damage done by this little tortilla chip."

"If any damage has been done, we know who's responsible." Hephzie sneered and darted her eyes to Fiddleford, who looked down shamefully.

"Hephzie, drop it and get searching." Stan growled and started to browse the shelves.

Fiddleford passed by the first shelf and looked down the hall of shelves. A dark blue book caught his eye, and he decided to open it. Expecting to find a story of said-memory, instead he found a memory being played in front of his eyes on the open page, like a TV. It was a memory of Ford playing Dungeons, Dungeons, and More Dungeons in college with that club. Fiddleford closed the book and placed it back where he found it before looking down more shelves for the triangle fellow.

Stan walked by a shelf with a book lying on the edge of the shelf, not put away properly. Stan's side rubbed it and the book fell open. He turned to look down at the book. It was showing a memory of Ford trying to talk to Steve with a megaphone and Stan having to throw himself on top of his stupid brother to keep from getting crushed by a flying deer. Stan smiled at the memory, closed the book, and put in on the shelf before continuing.

Hephzie's eye caught a small shelf, much like a children's bookshelf, that was gold (appearing white in the black-and-white world of Ford's mind) and had a star on top. Ford's favorite memories. Hephzie saw a few books that were shelves with its faces in the front and she picked on at random to look at. She smiled when she saw their wedding in the book, the bride and groom standing at the atler and being married by Stan. She watched the memory long enough to see them kiss. So much had changed since that day six-and-a-half years ago.

Curious, Hephzie checked the rest of the books that contained Ford's favorite memories. One was of Hephzie, Stan and Ford fishing at Glass Shard Beach as kids. Nothing special happened to make it a favorite. Maybe that's why it was a favorite. It was simple. One memory was of Hephzie and Ford's first date. They were at an Italian restaurant and Hephzie was still in her casted leg and arm from the accident. One memory was of Ma singing in the kitchen while Ford worked on homework on the kitchen table. One memory was of Ford and Stan freeing the Jersey Devil and showing the Sibling Brothers who's boss. One memory was of Ford watching Hephzie get her doctorate at a graduation ceremony of the medical school. One memory was of Hephzie and Ford's honeymoon in Scotland. It had been burning hot, and Hephzie had jumped into Loch Ness, where she and Ford were looking for any signs of Nessie. Ford jumped in after her after she called him an old man and they swam and splashed in the hot late-July day. Hephzie smiled when she saw how many of Ford's favorite memories had her in it.

Hephzie put the book that looked like the cover of a Scottish folk tale away as she thought about it. She was still mad at Ford for keeping Bill a secret; if Ford had told Stan and Hephzie about Bill, they probably could have detected that he was no good from the beginning and prevented all of this madness. Not only was Hephzie mad, she was hurt. Then again, it seemed like everyone was. Ford was angry at her and Fiddleford and now Bill, and he was probably hurt by all of this betrayal. Sure, Hephzie was mad, but at the end of the day she loved Ford more than anything in the whole world and she knew that he loved her, too. She decided that she could forget to be angry long enough to help him.

Stan, Fiddleford, and Hephzie wandered around the library of memories for a few minutes, but they didn't find bowtie or top hat of Bill. They met up at the entrance again, worried that they might have overlooked something, but Hephzie got an idea. An owl flew by, swooping down from a beam and to a bookshelf. Hephzie cleared her throat politely and looked up at the bird.

"Excuse me, can ya help us?"

The owl looked at Hephzie, flew down gracefully, and when the female dreamscaper held her arm out for it to land, it carefully wrapped it's soft claws around her forearm.

"We're lookin' for a triangle guy with one eye, a top hat, n' a bowtie." Hephzie explained. "Have ya seen anyone like that in the library?"

The owl slowly shook his head.

"Any idea where he might be?" Fiddleford asked the owl.

The owl gently flapped his wings and released his talons from Hephzie's arms, doing so in a way that left her unscaved. The owl flew off into the distance, but was soon back with a book in his beak. He landed on Hephzie's arm and waited for Stan to grab the book.

"He's in one of Ford's memories?" Stan asked and opened the book to a random page.

The three looked down at the memory and saw that it was Ford's newest memory.

 _He was in a sea of stars, in the middle of space, and running towards Bill, landing on books to do the job._

 _"Bill! You've got some explaining to do! I know you hurt Hephzie and I know what you told her!"_

 _Bill turned, his eye squinting at Ford evilly, and he laughed and said, "Aw, don't look so sour, Fordsie. You know how humans can be overdramatic."_

 _"Don't lie to me!" Ford snapped. "Where does that portal really lead when we activate it?!"_

 _"So, the six-fingered gloves are off, huh pal?" Bill asked and rubbed his hands together. "Looks like Mr. Brainiac finally got smart! One way or another, you and you little band of misfits are gonna finish that portal and open the door."_

 _"Why would I do anything for you?!"_

 _Bill snapped his fingers. Scrolls of information and data turned to rustic chains and held Ford by the neck and ankles. Ford tried to pull the chain off his neck, but his wrists were soon chained, too. "Cuz a deal's a deal, Sixer. You can't stop the bridge between our worlds from coming, and while it would be fun to watch you try, cute even, I'm not in the mood to play games. Don't forget that without me you're just a six-fingered freak in a backwoods town. You're gonna finish that portal and your dimension is gonna learn how to party."_

 _"No, I'll never finish the portal!" Ford yelled, his eyes snapping with that good ole Pines determination. "I'll never let you into our world!"_

 _"I didn't really ask for your permission, did I?" Bill asked and snapped his fingers. The chain around his neck tightened and Ford choked. He couldn't even try to lessen the grip, his hands chained. "I'll make you finish that portal, Six Fingers, it's only a matter of time."_

 _Bill snapped his fingers again, and Ford screamed._

Stan snapped the book closed, shut his eyes, and growled in his throat. Fiddleford's hand was over his mouth and he was shaking. Ford might still not trust him or consider him a friend, but the engineer still cared about him and it terrified him to see a nightmare come to life, his best friend hurt and tortured. Hephzie swallowed to try to make the tight knot in her throat go away. She took the memory and held it out to the owl to take back.

"Thanks."

The owl rubbed his head against Hephzie's cheek affectionately, took the book, and flew off to put it away.

Fiddleford shook his head. "I can't believe it… I can't believe it. Th-That portal we built… if it works, it'll open to… to… to what, exactly?!"

"I don't know," Stan said, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against a bookshelf. "But I can tell you that it won't lead to Ford's Weirdness Theory or whatever. I'd bet money that the portal leads to some sort of hell and if it opens, it'll bring the end of our world."

"We have to destroy it before it destroys us all!" Fiddleford agreed.

"We can't do that with Ford in chains!" Hephzie yelled. "But where the hell were they?!"

"I don't think they were in Ford's mind." Stan said. "If they were, how the hell would we get there?"

The three visitors of Ford's mind looked up when they heard numerous hoots. Half a dozen owls were flying either from the beams or in the back of the library and they were flying out the door. One grabbed Hephzie by her sweater sleeve, one grabbed Fiddleford by his jacket, and one grabbed Stan's t-shirt with their beaks, gentlying pulling them along.

"I think they want us t'folow 'em." Fiddleford guessed, and when the birds released them, the humans followed the swarm of owls out of the library, down the stairs and back to the main entrance, and then out of the house.

They went around to the side of the shack and awed at what they saw. The owls were flying around a hole in the wall. It looked like someone had broken through and left a torn hole in the wall of the cabin, the wood splintered and uneven. The hole was about the size of Stan and went down to the brass. Some owls were trying to cover it back up with pieces of wood while others hooted at it. What was shocking about the hole was where it led. Rather than to the inside of the house, it led to a vast star-filled galaxy, the same one Ford and Bill were in.

"Hot tamales." Stan said as he watched the owls try to cover the hole, but the wood wouldn't stay and the owls seemed to be discussing among themselves of what to do. "I don't think this is something we can fix with duct tape."

"We have to rescue Ford n' then find a way to close the hole." Hephzie said and stepped towards it. "I bet this is how Bill's been enterin' Ford's mind. If we close the hole, then that three-sided devil will be gone."

"Hephzie's right." Fiddleford agreed. "But how can we close this? We might wanna figure that out before we go barrelin' into outer space lookin' for Ford."

"I haven't gotta clue." Hephzie said, full of determination and adrenaline. "But every minute we're not in there is another minute Bill's doin' God only knows what to Ford."

"Then let's do this!" Stan growled with a crooked smile as he punched his opposite palm, and he ran and jumped through the hole.

Hephzie took in a deep breath to brace herself,like a child about to jump into a pool, and jumped. Fiddleford swallowed and did it before he could talk himself out of it.

The Mindscape was much like Ford's mind. It was neither hot nor cold, but it appeared endless and there was color, a nice change from a world of black and white and grays. Stan, Fiddleford, and Hephzie first floated, but they found that if they tried, they could walk like normal, so they did. They, at first, saw nothing but a spiraling galaxy far away, but they could hear an echo, an echo that chilled them to the bone: Ford's screams. The three walked faster onward and soon the Mindscape was littered with floating books, science equipment, and scrolls. They didn't take the time to look, but they guessed that all of the items belonged to Ford in reality.

Meanwhile, Ford wiggled and kicked and turned his head to try to break free, but it was hopeless. He growled in his throat to try to keep from screaming, but sometimes it all became too much and he let out a yell or a scream. Bill was in front of him, much bigger than Ford had ever seen him and glowing red. He would point a finger at Ford and encased the human in blue light. In reality, if Bill had a say, he would be electrocuting Ford to try to get him to agree to follow through with the deal, but here in the mind Bill couldn't physically hurt Ford, so he decided to do so mentally.

When Bill pointed to Ford, his mind was filled with overwhelming anxiety and depression all at once, like a powerful chemical imbalance had been set off. Ford's skin crawled and sweated, his heart raced, his stomach squirmed, and the nightmares that plagued him would drive anyone mad. Gruesome, gorry, bloody visions of himself and his family and friends. Old nightmares revisited him. Bad memories returned ten times more powerful. Echoes of old insults, hurt voices, screams, blames, every negative comment that had been thrown at Ford was hurtling down on him like he was being stoned to death. It was all too much, and it would stop if Ford would just agree to complete the job, but he couldn't. He couldn't open the portal. It would kill his family and destroy his world.

It all stopped, and Ford breathed heavy as Bill's glowing faded from an angry red to his normal yellow. "Ready to wake up and get back to work?"

Ford gritted his teeth and slowly raised his head from hanging over due to exhaustion. "I-I won't. I'll die before I finish your work!"

"BILL!"

Ford and Bill turned to the yell and had different reactions to Stan, Fiddleford, and Hephzie running up to them and sliding to a halt. Ford's heart skipped a beat when he saw his loved ones coming to try to help and he was flooded with overwhelming fear. Bill shrunk down to his normal size and his eye squinted happily at the rescuers.

"Ah, Ford's family, we meet at last." Bill pulled out a cane from nowhere and leaned on it calmly. "Crescent, Glasses, Misses Sixer, you're awfully persistent."

"Quit the flattery, Cipher!" Stan demanded. "Let Ford go and no one gets hurt!"

Bill laughed so hard the whole mindscape seemed to quiver. "Who do you think you are, Knucklehead?! I'm the Master of the Mind! I'm the Demon of the Nightmare Realm! You think you can boss me around?! Sorry to burst your bubble, but I'm the one who's in charge here!"

Bill snapped his fingers and more chains appeared, but this time they snapped to Hephzie's arms, legs and neck. Ford's eyes widened in horror as she was held against her will, too, and she tried so hard to fight her way free.

"HEY!" Stan yelled and hurled himself to Bill, but instead of pushing the triangle down he fell into Bill's body. He pulled out an oversized pocket watch, waited a second, and then pocketed it. Stan then rolled out and stumbled, not used to space, but turned, confused, as to what the hell just happened.

"Right, let's get this over with." Bill said and snapped his fingers again. Stan and Fiddleford were chained up, as well, and Bill focused on Ford. "Maybe torturing Dreadlocks over here will make you behave like a good boy and get back to work."

Ford's heart threatened to stop. "NO!" He yelled and nearly cut into his skin by pulling on the chains so hard. "Don't hurt her!"

Bill turned to Hephzie, grew in size, and pointed a finger at her. Hephzie shut her eyes and gritted her teeth. She hissed in pain and turned her head away as much as her dog chain would let her. Ford's jaw dropped at seeing his wife having to go through what he had just been through.

"NO! STOP! PLEASE!" Ford begged.

Bill stopped and Hephzie caught her breath. "You gonna open the door, Fordsie?" The demon asked.

"Don't ya DARE, Ford!" Hephzie yelled. "It'll destroy the world!"

"Don't you know a lady who holds her tongue gets to keep her man?" Bill snarled and pointed his finger at Hephzie again, and she became engulfed in blue.

Hephzie groaned and yelled a little, but not nearly as much as the men. Ford yelled so painfully it was like he was being burned alive, and Stan and Fiddleford yelled as they were forced to watch their friend being tortured.

"FORD, DO SOMETHING!" Stan screamed.

"Maybe torturing these idiots will do the trick." Bill said and pointed a finger to Stan.

Stan yelled and then bit his lip to stop from showing just how much pain he was in, but his face said it all. Ford lost his voice for a moment as Bill pointed a second hand to Fiddleford to torture him, and then Bill grew a third hand to torture Hephzie. Ford's entire family was in overwhelming pain, and it was all his fault.

"STOP! STOP IT!" Ford bellowed into the Mindscape and he watched Bill cease his torture and turn to face him. "I'll do whatever you want, just don't hurt them! Please! They're my entire world!"

"F-Ford!" Hephzie yelled as she caught her breath. Her mind was spinning and she was grateful the torture was over, but if enduring the hell that was happening to her head was keeping the world from ending, than she could live with it. "Don't do it!"

Bill snapped his fingers and a piece of white cloth was tied over Hephzie's mouth, gagging her. "Just as I thought. You humans never made any sense to me. You're so quick to throw away your pathetic lives for nothing."

Stan growled like an angry bulldog. "You little son of a…" All Stan wanted to do was shoot this guy through his stupid triangle body! He glared daggers at him and a beam of hot light shot out of Stan's eyes and shot Bill, leaving a hole where his tie used to be.

"WHAT?!" Bill yelled as he looked down at his gaping hole.

Ford's jaw dropped and he looked at his brother through Bill's hole. "How did you do that, Stanley?!"

Stan got it. It was like something clicked. He grinned mischievously and the chains that bounded him disappeared. "Word to the wise, brother: we're in the mind! You can do whatever you can imagine in here! And I'm pretty good at making stuff up on the fly!" Stan winked at Fiddleford and Hephzie and a laser from his open eye split in two ways, shot the chains, and freed them both.

Hephzie ripped the cloth from over her mouth and grinned over the possibilities. "Ya can do anythang, huh?" She thought for a minute, focused, and then made a sword appear next to her, decorated with gold and it had a pinetree for a pommel.

She ran to Bill as he closed his hole and she sliced him in half like he was made of cheese. Hephzie expected him to yell in pain, but Bill only shrunk to the size of their heads and doubled. Hephzie growled and sliced through one of the Bills, but it also doubled. Hephzie lost per patience and stabbed her sword into one of the Bills' eye. All of the triangles screamed and all disappeared except for the one Hephzie stabbed.

"AH! MY EYE!"

While Hephzie had Bill distracted, Fiddleford imagined Ford free from his chains and helped him shake off the ache he had from Bill's excessive torture. Stan imagined a version of the Stamobile that was bigger, faster, louder, had no roof, and was decorated with flames, and the three men jumped in.

"HEPHZIE, LET'S GO!"

Hephzie ran, grabbed Ford's outstretched hand, and Stan sped the car away from Bill as he regenerated his eye. Bill grew again, turned red, and flew after the car, hot on their tales.

"Get to the exit!" Ford yelled from the backseat at his brother as the exit was starting to appear as they got closer. "I have a plan!"

"You got it!" Stan said, used the thrusters, and the car shot flames out the back and sped up.

"WHEN I GET MY HANDS ON YOU FREAKS, I'M GONNA DISASSEMBLE YOUR MOLECULES!" Bill screamed.

Hephzie turned, imagined a dozen different guns, and pointed them all at Bill. "Say hello to my little friends!" She yelled and shot like a mad woman.

Holes were made by the bullets in Bill's body, but they healed instantly. Bill reached a hand form Hephzie and grabbed her hair as it flew thanks to the speed of the car. She yelled in pain and the guns disappeared, but Fiddleford was quick, pulled out a baseball bat from nowhere, and slammed it into Bill's eye.

"AH, SERIOUSLY?! NOT AGAIN!"

Free from Bill's hand, Fiddleford pulled Hephzie to the front seat, in front of him and next to Stan, and they were now less than a mile away from the hole.

"Jump when I say so!" Stan readied and the other three stood with bent knees. They got closer and closer to the hole with Bill right on their tales, and then "NOW!"

Right on top of each other, Stan, Ford, Hephzie and Fiddleford jumped out of the car and through the hole. They heard a horrible crash and yell as they landed on soft grass. They quickly looked back to find Bill rubbing his eye from out in the Mindspace, and he glared at the humans.

"This isn't over, Sixer!" Bill yelled and banged on the hole, but it rippled; it seemed as if Bill couldn't enter this area of Ford's mind without permission. "I'll haunt your dreams and MAKE you open the door! Think it's safe to close your eyes?! FAT CHANCE! I've waited a billion years for your dimension and if you think I'll stop now, you're DEAD WRONG! **THIS ISN'T OVER!** "

The four humans stood and Stan looked ready to teach this three-sided asshole a lesson as he popped his knuckles, but Ford held out his hand, his eyes glued to his old muse, and he stepped forward. Ford traced a finger on the wall of the house in the shape of a door and one magically appeared. It swung open to what looked like reds, oranges, and yellows. Before anyone could look to see if it was the flames of Hell, Ford reached his hand into his Mindscape, grabbed Bill's arm, pulled the demon into his mind, and glared at him.

Fiddleford, Stan, and Hephzie gasped as Ford's mind turned from grays to reds. Before anyone could intervene, Ford growled at Bill, not breaking eye contact, "This is for my family." Ford then did something he hadn't done since he and Stan were on the same boxing team: he whipped around their opponent and pinned the poor sucker's arms behind his back. "NOW!"

Stan delivered the fiercest right-hook he had ever made in his life and Ford let go just in time so Bill flew out of Ford's mind and back to the Nightmare Realm. A horrible, loud scream echoed, Ford slammed the door closed, and his mind returned to black and white. Ford waved his hand and the door was set in blue flames, and then gone. All there was left was the hole to his Mindscape.

There was silence. Utter silence. Ford breathed heavy over what he had just done and looked over at Stan. He was breathing heavy, too. Ford wondered if he could count on his brother to break the uncomfortable silence, but just as Stan opened his mouth to do so, a different voice beat Stan to it.

"Honey fogelin', salt-lickin' skullduggery." Fiddleford whispered under his breath, his eyes wide and his mouth slightly open, but his KPBS was at a blissful 0.

Stan chuckled low, then it grew and grew into a low laugh that escalated into a full-blown rib-aching laughter as he held his head. When he started to calm down enough to talk, he huffed, "You have GOT to teach me some of your weird Southern swears, Twerp!"

Fiddleford smiled with a hot face and had his hands behind his back.

Hephzie walked up to Ford, who was looking at the hole, and asked, "What 'bout this hole? Will it hurt ya, havin' a way out to space?"

Ford tore his eyes away to look at his wife, smiled with a warm chuckle, and shook his head. "No, this isn't just mindless space. This is my Mindscape. We all have one, and it is through this that Bill could move freely from his world, the Nightmare Realm, into my mind. Bill will either have to have me let him into my mind or have someone else send him into my mind. Since neither is happening, this should be fine." Ford held his chin and gave it another thought. "However, I don't find this gaping hole on the side of my house very appealing." The owner of this mind waved his hand in front of the hole and a door with a golden handle appeared. A sign came up from the grass that read "Vwdqirug'v Plqgvfdsh" and a key appeared. It locked the door, floated to Ford, and he pocketed it in his trenchcoat.

Hephzie smiled proudly at her husband. "Whaddya know…"

"Uh, guys." Stan said and lifted his hand to his eyes. He was glitching, like static on TV, and his hand was disappearing right in front of him. The same was happening to Hephzie and Fiddleford.

"I must be waking up." Ford said calmly and pocketed his hands in his trenchcoat. "I'll see you all soon."

"I still don't get it." Fiddleford said urgently. "Was all of this even real? Or was it all just a dream?"

As the world around them started to fade, including Ford, he actually smiled at his old college roommate amusingly. "Of course it was all a dream, but why should that mean it isn't real?"


	45. Unicorns

Maddie was sick and tired of being stuck in the house with no clue as to what was going on. If no one explained why Fiddleford was so depressed or why Ford was so cold, than she was gonna throw a tantrum Tate-style and demand answers. Maddie sat on the couch while his son laid on the floor and watched TV. The Saint Bernard puppy, Everest, was lying with Tate and he had a hand on the dog's back. Maddie watched them both while she rested her cheek on her fist. She wanted to give Tate a dog, having grown up with several dogs who were her childhood friends on that ranch with her aunt and uncle, but her better judgment and overprotective mama-bear instincts told her to wait. Until then, Tate had Banjo the fish and he could play with Everest whenever he wanted, according to the Pines family.

The last week, however, the Pines have been cold and distant from Maddie. Fiddleford came home one day, slumped over with huge bags under his red eyes, and he walked like a zombie into their bedroom and crawled into bed, but the chances that he actually slept were not good. Ford had called the next day when Fiddleford was late to work, and while he was polite enough to Maddie when they talked, she could sense how angry Ford was. When Maddie asked her husband about it, he flat out didn't answer her and left for the cabin. Maddie would try and try again to get Fiddleford to talk to her and tell her what was going on, but it always led to a little fight. They were fighting a lot this week. Not any big fights that involved screaming, but a lot of fights that were a little too big to call standard marridal bickering.

Maddie heard the front door open and she left the living room. Fiddleford was home. He pocketed his keys in his suit jacket and looked at his wife. Maddie observed him for a moment and used that smart-southern-women intellect to tell what was different about him.

Fiddleford still had bags under his eyes from lack of sleep. He looked mentally drained and his facial expression looked like he was a little lost, but his blue eyes were sparkling like they used to; Maddie hadn't seen his eyes do that in a long, long time. Fiddleford slowly walked towards her and she let him hold her gently and kiss her. Maddie kissed him back, not sure what was going on, but she had a feeling in her gut that she was gonna get some answers.

When they separated, Fiddleford held Maddie gently by the shoulders and gave her a pleading look. "Is it alright if we have a talk?"

Maddie smiled lovingly at him. It was like her uncle had advised her a long time ago. Maddie was frustrated when Fiddleford wouldn't talk to her about something while they were at college and during their junior Spring Break, Maddie was in her uncle's garage as he was under a truck.

 _"I just wish he would talk t'me." Maddie concluded as she leaned against his wooden desk._

 _Uncle Earl reached down for a screwdriver, but it was just out of his reach. Maddie nudged it closer with her foot and he grabbed it without getting out from under the truck. "Maybe he thought nothin' needed t'be said. Maybe he thought ya'd understand without bein' told, since y'all are so close now."_

 _Maddie considered the idea, and said slowly, "Maybe, but there are some thangs I'd like t'be told. I'm not a psychic, ya know."_

 _Uncle Earl chuckled, rolled out from under the truck, and wiped his sweaty forehead with an oily arm, leaving a black mark on his skin. "Sorry t'disappoint ya, sweetie, but men don't think like that. Most of 'em like t'speak with actions, not words. When somethang's botherin' 'em, they don't wanna burden anyone with it, not if they can help it. But, there may come a time when Fiddleford'll ask for your help, n' I know that you'll be there for him when he needs ya." Maddie's uncle looked up at her with that same kind smile that had comforted her since she was a baby and asked, "Ain't that enough?"_

 _Maddie thought about it, smiled, and sighed peacefully. "I reckon so. Thanks, Uncle Earl."_

 _The mechanic smiled got stood up. "I think that's enough work for today. Why don't ya go ask your Aunt Jean if she's up for goin' out for dinner?"_

Now it seemed like following her uncle's advice was going to pay off. "Course we can. I'll make us some tea n' we can talk for as long as ya want."

* * *

Ford felt refreshed. He felt better than he had felt in a long time. The week may have been long and full of bitterness and anger, but Ford didn't realize just how much pressure he had been under with Bill and the portal and the secrets until it was all gone.

When the four woke up in Ford's study, they were all weirdly both tired and energetic. Their adventure still left many questions and unsolved problems, so over hot bowls of Ma's homemade stew for lunch, the four talked openly about what happened, what they were going through and what they were feeling, and what to do. After the conversation, the four adults sat back in their chairs and sighed, feeling much better.

One thing still plagued Fiddleford. Sensing that it was time to go home, he stood up and said to the Pines family, "Look, I… I wasn't tryin' t'make excuses, only give an explanation for what I did. N' I… I am so, so sorry for what I did t'all yall. I don't know how I can ever do t'make it up t'y'all, but I swear on my life that I'll do whatever it takes t'make it right. What I'm goin' through… my own issues with my anxiety… that isn't your burden t'bear, n' by no means should it be the reason for y'alls hurtin'. I… I just pray that someday y'all'll forgive me, but I won't blame y'all if ya never will n' if ya hate me now."

The three Pines exchanged looks. Logically, they shouldn't forgive Fiddleford. He may have helped to get Ford back, but he still did an awful thing. However, when thinking with the thing in their chests and not with their heads, they found that they cared about their friend too much to let him go that easily.

Ford stood up and looked at his old college roommate carefully. "We've tried forgetting. Maybe we should try forgiving."

Fiddleford's eyes welled up with tears, but they were replaced by a huge grin and he went around the table to hug his friend. Ford found it easy to pat his back and return the kind gesture.

Their troubles were far from over, however.

That night, Ford woke up coated his sweat from an ugly nightmare. It wasn't like before where Bill talked to him. No, he might have dreamed of Bill, but he wasn't in his dream. It was a memory of what he said. It isn't over.

As quietly as he could so he wouldn't wake Hephzie, Ford got out of bed, slipped on his robe and slippers over his blue flannel pajamas, and went downstairs to the basement. He knew he couldn't rest until his family was safe. They had been hurt once before thanks to him, and he'll be damned if they are ever hurt again.

When the elevator opened to the lab, a shiver went down Ford's spine. He carried the lantern that hung in the elevator with him into the room and walked by the bolts and switches. It was frightening to Ford how easy it could all be activated. There was a good chance there were still some bugs to work out and that turning on the portal was much more complicated than flipping some switches and turning on buttons, but Ford couldn't help but think that it was just as likely to be finished and ready to lead to another world. Having something so dangerous under his house, right under where his family slept, gave Ford all the energy he needed to do what he wanted to do without coffee.

The scientist sat the lantern down on the desk that sat in front of the window to the portal. He dragged himself to a metal cabinet Stan kept a lot of heavy duty tools and he pulled out a sledgehammer. Ford dragged it by his feet as he walked through the door and towards the portal. It would hurt to do this, God it would hurt, but he knew he had to go through with this. He had to do this. Ford stood in front of the giant upside-down-triangle shaped portal as it seemed to loom over him like a towering beast. How could Ford had been so blind? How could he have trusted Bill so easily? Had he really become so desperate to prove his theory that he nearly gave everything he had to some one-eyed demon? Ford hoisted the sledgehammer up, holding it with two fight fists, and he glared at the machine he had built with his brother and his best friend for over six months. This may be his life's work, but it was a life he wanted no part of anymore.

Ford took in a deep breath, held it, swung the hammer over his head, and slammed it across the edge of the portal, making bolts spray and the metal bend.

It made a horribly loud bang that made Ford wince. The echo of the basement didn't help and it felt like his head was ringing, but as much as it resembled the machine itself howling in pain, he knew he had to go on. He swung at it again and again.

Ford managed to vex out some anger and negative energy via destruction. With each hit from his sledgehammer, it seemed to be for someone or something different. _This is for my brother._ **BANG!** _This is for my wife._ **BANG!** _This is for my best friend._ **BANG!** _This is for my future._ **BANG!** _This is for my freedom._ **BANG!** _This is for my dimension._ **BANG!** A small part of him winced and cried for the destruction of the greatest invention in human history to stop, but Ford's better judgment was dominant and kept him pressing forward.

"You're insane."

Ford jumped and stopped after another hit to turn and see who had scared a few years off his life. Stan was at the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest, wearing boxers, an undershirt, a bathrobe and slippers. His expression was calm, his normal Stan-resting face.

Ford raised an eyebrow at him. "Sure I am, what's your point?"

"I can't believe you would wake up in the middle of the night and destroy the portal in your pajamas." Stan growled, but before Ford could even open his mouth to voice his reasoning, the ex-criminal grabbed some rope and added with a crooked grin. "Without me."

Ford gave his brother a tired smile and straightened up, a little hunched over from the weight of the sledgehammer previously. "Sorry." And he meant it.

Stan tossed a lasso and threw it to one of the top corners of the portal. He looked at the base and saw that Ford had already done enough damage to it that one push would send the portal down. Ford dropped the hammer and grabbed the rope, too.

"On three." Stan said and they both firmly planted their slippered feet on the ground. "One… two… THREE!"

They pulled with all of their might and the portal soon came crashing down. Ford and Stan swiftly moved to the side just in time for the portal to fall without crushing them. Wires snapped and bolts sprayed, and with one firm look and nod, the Pines twins continued to dismantle the interdimensional gateway too dangerous for the world it was suppose to feed into.

* * *

Hephzie had work the next day, noon to midnight shift, and another long shift the next day, a ten-to-ten, but then she had two days off. When she came home thirty-five-minutes after midnight, she walked into her shared bedroom with Ford to find him asleep. She smiled, thankful that he was resting at a reasonable hour, and kissed his cheek before undressing for bed. Hephzie undid the first button of her gray button-up when she noticed the small stack of books on her husband's nightstand.

Glowing in the moonlight, a golden hand could barely be seen in the dark. Hephzie could make out a black 1 on it, and a closer look told her that all three journals were stacked on top of one another. Hephzie wondered if Ford had spent his evening adding notes or making corrections, but then she started to consider the idea of taking a look inside the first journal. Hephzie now understood why Ford had always been strangely territorial over his journals, but in the past she had always thought it was because of basic privacy or wanting to shield himself from humiliation. Hephzie was never offended by it and respected Ford's wishes to not read his journals, but the idea was just too tempting. Besides, hadn't Ford himself had said, "From now on, no more secrets between us" at their family meeting yesterday? Hephzie bit her lip, gently picked up the first journal, sat on her side of the bed so she could use the moon for light, and she began to read.

Hephzie found herself intrigued by Ford's journals. It was like reading any other thrilling story, except this book had beautiful sketches and most stories that Hephzie either remembered being a part of or remembered the twins telling her. That night, she put the first journal back after she finished reading it and went to bed, but the next day, after work, she found the second journal in Ford's nightstand drawer and kept on reading until she fell asleep with the book curled in her arms. Ford walked in on her, smiled lovingly at her, and the next morning, over coffee, he commented that he wouldn't be offended if she read Journal 3, making Hephzie choke on her hot drink.

Hephzie curled up on the couch in the thinking parlor and read like a bookworm. She even held the book as she ate a peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich. When Hephzie was finished, she had an idea and knew just what to do.

Stan was in the living room with Everest (who had returned home the morning after their family meeting) when she grabbed her coat and called that she was going to hang out with Maddie. Stan grunted a reply as he watched TV and she was gone, unknown to anyone that Hephzie had Journal 1 tucked into her coat.

Maddie was surprised when she got a knock on the door and grinned at seeing Hephzie standing there. "Well, hey there, Hephzie!"

The ladies hugged and Hephzie said casually, "I need your help, Maddie. Can ya leave Tate with Fidds for the night?"

Maddie blinked, surprised again, but she shrugged and said, "Yeah, sure, they're watcin' a movie right now. C'mon in before ya get frostbite n' tell me what I can do for ya."

Hephzie followed Maddie to the kitchen and they sat at the table to chat. "Fidds told ya everythang 'bout Bill n' all that?" When Maddie nodded, Hephzie unzipped her coat, took it off, and put Journal 1 on the table. "Well, Ford's still worried that there might be a way for Bill to come back. He's scared to death that Bill'll use him, even though he n' Stan destroyed the portal n' we banished Bill back to the Nightmare Realm."

"How do ya know all this?" Maddie asked, knowing for a fact that there were slim chances of Ford sharing his fears with Hephzie like this.

"I read about it in Journal 3." Hephzie said. "He says that there's a way to Bill-proof our homes, but it needs moonstones, mercury, n' unicorn hair."

"It is impossible t'get those thangs?"

"Nah, we got moonstones n' mercury at the house. It's the unicorn hair that he needs our help to get." Hephzie explained and opened Journal 1 to the information about unicorns. "I was hopin' ya'd help me get the hair. Apparently the hair 'can only be obtained by a pure-hearted person who goes on a magical quest' or whatever, but when Stan n' Ford met 'em they were rude n' frustratin' as all get, so I say we just take the hair n' make sure our homes are safe."

"So, ya want me t'go on some magic quest with ya into the magic part of the woods n' attack unicorns for their hair?" Maddie then stood up, grinned, and said, "Lemme get my coat n' scissors! It's 'bout time we went on a mission!"

The girls left Hephzie's motorcycle at the McGucket house and walked into the woods. There was only a small dusting of snow on the ground so they didn't have to take huge steps to walk, but the bitter ice beneath them made them grateful they two pairs of fuzzy socks. They traveled for about an hour until Hephzie stopped them, using the map her husband had drawn in his journal, and the two women awed at the magical land before them.

The weather had been warm when Stan and Ford visited the land in search of unicorns; ferns, vines, magical flowers, green grass, and sunshine that was a pure yellow gold decorated this part of the forest and, according to the twins, made you feel like your soul was getting an annoyingly tight and warm hug. Now, in the winter, the vines were frozen and made beautiful beads of ice. The massive pine trees held snow on their branches delicately, and here and there, hidden in hollows trees and under mushrooms and in other small homes of the magical creatures, warm fires flickered to try to beat the bitter cold. Maddie and Hephzie sighed peacefully at the winter wonderland and the bitter cold that tormented their fingers, nose, and toes was unfelt.

"Okay," Hephzie said and flipped a page to a more detailed map of the Enchanted Forest. "Accordin' to Ford, the Gnome Tavern is over there… n' the Fairy Nail Salon is over there…"

"Okay, after this, can we agree t'check that out?" Maddie said as she looked down at the journal.

"Oh, totally, we're totally goin' there another day." Hephzie agreed. "Right, so the gateway to the unicorn's home should be right in front of us, but to summon it 'one must bellow this ancient chant, droned only by the deepest-voiced druids of old.'"

"I've had to yell at Tate plenty of times with my scary-Mom voice." Maddie said, took the journal, and stepped forward. "I got this." The mother cleared her throat and read off of the book in her deepest voice, her secret weapon of a mother of a hyper four-year-old boy.

Hephzie wait a moment and soon the gate magically crept up from the snow and rose to about twenty-feet high. The walls were made of purple flowers and the door was gold with three pink jewels. Snow fell off of the gate and magical dust littered the ground. Maddie closed the book, put it away safely in her purse, and grinned proudly as she opened the door with Hephzie right behind her.

"Ten-year-old me would've loved this!" Maddie squealed.

"Ten-year-old me would've puked." Hephzie muttered as they looked at the winter wonderland before them.

Snow still covered the grass, but a waterfall ran freely into a river that, due to a little bit of steam rising from the water, led the humans to believe that it was warm. Toadstools that had been pink and purple in the summertime had changed into different shades of blue and white to try to hide from herbivores in the snow. Pink and purple butterflies littered the air, and one landed on Maddie's hair, making her eyes grow wide.

"Imma Disney princess." She whispered to herself.

Soft music, played by a fawn who had a psaltery, wafted through the cold air, and sitting on a rock in front of the waterfall was a graceful unicorn. She was a soft-pink color, like cotton candy, her hair represented a rainbow, she had three baby-blue diamonds near her tail, and when she gazed upon the human females, they saw that her huge eyes were purple. The unicorn gave a soft neigh that echoed and then spoke, her horn glowing purple as her mouth remained still.

"Ah, visitors to my enchanted realm." She said in a deep, soothing voice. "I am called Celestabell. Please, enter my domain and tell me of your reasoning for coming here."

Maddie and Hephzie stepped towards the rock on which the unicorn sat on and Maddie said, "We have come t'ask for some of your hair so we can use it t'protect our families."

"I see." Celestabell stood up and stepped off the rock and onto the snowy ground. "If you wish to obtain a lock of my enchanted hair, you must prove yourself worthy by being pure of heart. Step forth, and I shall deem you as such if your heart is indeed pure."

Hephzie nodded to Maddie and she took a step forward. Maddie even got on one knee in front of the magical horse and waited for judgment.

"Oh, dear." Celestabell said and peered down at the human before her. "I can see deep inside your heart, and you are not pure of heart. You have done wrong, I say!"

"Oh no!" Maddie said and stood up. "Please, Celestabell, my family's in grave danger. Is there nothin' I can do to make my heart pure n' earn your hair?"

"Having a heart that is pure is something one must discover for themselves, young one." Celestabell lectured. "To have a heart that is pure is to vanquish yourself of evil thought, to have only the best intentions for others and to always meet others' needs before your own, and…"

Hephzie had used Maddie as a distraction to sneak around the unicorn, and so she smacked Celestabell over the head with her combined fists, held the magical creature in a choke-hold, and pinned the unicorn in the snow. "MADDIE, NOW!"

Maddie pulled out her scissors, grabbed a handful of hair while Celestabell kicked and spirmed under Hephzie's tight grip, and cut plenty of multi-colored hair. Celestabell let out a horribly loud neigh and managed to jerk Hephzie off of her.

"MOVE IT!" Hephzie yelled and Maddie grabbed her wrist and they both ran to the door.

The doors, however, slammed shut, and half-a-dozen unicorns ran up to guard the exit, snarling and huffing at the two humans. Maddie held the hair close to her chest and Hephzie stood in front of her.

"You petty two-legged thieves!" Celestabell scolded. "How dare you rob me, rape me, of my beautiful hair!"

The unicorns and the two humans suddenly erupted in "Whoa, whoa, whoa!"s and looked at Celestabell disapprovingly, making her lower her head and blush.

"Hold up, C-Bell, that's taking it a little too far." One turquoise colored unicorn with a male-sounding voice said.

"Yeah, seriously," Hephzie said and slowly pointed a finger at Celestabell. "That's fucked up."

"I can't help it, I enjoy talking with an old-fashioned tongue to make me sound more magical." She whined. "And, unfortunately, that means that some words have different meanings and are interpreted differently. I can't even comment that someone is gay without being labeled as a homophobe."

"Whatever," A baby-blue female unicorn said and glared at the humans. "If you think you're going to leave here easily, you are sorely mistaken."

"Well if y'all think we're leavin' without a fight, y'all are sorely mistaken." Maddie growled back.

* * *

Fiddleford sat on the couch with his son in his lap and Ford by his side and Stan in his armchair, where Everest, who had doubled in size since his adoption around Christmas, was curled up on Stan's lap and sleeping. Fiddleford's KBPS was at 2.3 and was bound to increase as time went on.

They heard the door open, the sounds of Hephzie and Maddie's laughter, and the door close. The four boys went to the hallway and saw the girls sitting against the front door, an arm wrapped around the other, and they were both laughing uncontrollably. Ford and Fiddleford stared at their wives. Hephzie's dreadlocks were down and she had a nasty bruise on her cheek, and one of Maddie's eyes were swollen shut and turning purple. They were also both dirty, wet, shivering, and covered in something sparkly and what looked like rainbow paint, and yet, they were both smiling proudly.

"Mama!" Tate yelled and ran to Maddie. She brought him into a hug as her laughter died down and she sat the boy on her lap. "What happened?! Are ya hurt?!"

Maddie hugged her son super tight. "No, baby, I'm alright. We're both fine."

"Your mama's a tough cookie, Tater Tot." Hephzie said and patted Maddie on the back. "Managed to make that one unicorn cry…"

"Ya put that one guy in a headlock! N how many bloody noses did ya give?" Maddie laughed.

"What on God's green Earth happened to y'all?" Fiddleford asked and extended his hand to help his wife up, which she took when Tate got off her lap.

Ford watched Hephzie and Maddie stand, and he finally remembered where else he had seen that rainbow liquid. "Did you two have a fight with the unicorns?" He asked.

Hephzie grinned. "Not only that! Show 'em, Maddie!"

Maddie let go of Fiddleford and pulled out a bundle of unicorn that was tied together by Hephzie's scrunchie from her purse. It was a huge chunk of hair, so much that it barely fit into two of Maddie's hands.

"Dang, girls!" Stan laughed. "I don't believe it!"

"It can't be…" Ford awed. "Why would you…"

"Ya said we needed t'Bill-proof our homes, right?" Maddie asked and pulled out Journal 1 from her purse, too. "Hephzie n' I decided t'pitch in n' get the unicorn hair."

"We know that this won't destroy Bill or anythang," Hephzie explained and walked up to her husband and put her hands on his shoulders sturdily. "But ya can count on us to help ya out. Bill said it ain't over, n' he's right, but we'll do whatever it takes to keep our world safe, n' if he ever does get here, ya can count on us to help ya fight."

"Absolutely." Maddie said and gave Fiddleford a side hug so she could talk freely. "That's what family's for."

Ford admired his wife for a moment, and then he moved his eyes to the rest of his loved ones that were in the hall. He was a little embarrassed that she had read his latest journal entry, where he had vented about his insecurities of Bill still using him and his worries about their safety, but the length that Hephzie and Maddie were willing to go to help him was a little overwhelming. They were both bruised and cold, but clearly happy to help and to contribute in any way possible. And they weren't the only ones. Fiddleford and Stan have proven over and over again to be willing to do whatever it takes to stick by his side and help Ford. Moving your entire family to a new town and building a portal and destroying it in the dead of night was all unethical and unreasonable, but maybe that was the point. For the people you care about, for the people you love, you're willing to do some stupid things in order to help them, not because you feel obligated to, but because you want to.

Ford hugged Hephzie tightly and kissed her neck. "Thank you. Thank you very much."

Hephzie hugged him back and they only separated when Maddie spoke.

"Sweet Sally, I can see why y'all go on missions all the time! What a rush!" Maddie said with a toothy grin.

"I know, right?!" Hephzie said and grinned back at Maddie. "That was so smart of ya, the way we climbed that tree…"

"Ya managed t'sneak up on Celestabell n' pin her!"

"Yeah, but ya cut her hair! Man, was she mad!"

Maddie and Hephzie both revealed in their success and made plans to check out the Gnome Tavern on Hephzie' next day off.

* * *

Bill-proofing their homes turned into a fun family ordeal. First they did the Pines' house, placing moonstones and mercury throughout the house (hiding them under the floorboards) and lining the outside with unicorn hair. Tate even got to help out a little, swapping bad pun-filled jokes with Stan and squeezing the special glue on the unicorn hair as Ford placed it on the wall. The hair was so thin and so small that you'd have to be looking for it to find it. Once all the ingredients for the spell had been placed, the gang stood back as Ford slipped on the last hair and completed the circle. A magical dome formed around the shack and then disappeared, making Tate gasp so hard a fly flew into his mouth.

"Perfect!" Ford said excitedly. "This will protect us from Bill! As long as we're inside, our minds our safe."

"Great!" Stan said and heaved the sack of moonstones over his shoulder. "Round 2!"

And they all got in their cars to do the McGuckets' house.


	46. What Now?

It was now the first day of February. So much had changed in so little time. Snow had recently fallen, not enough to make it unsafe to travel, but enough to give kids a day off from school (which meant that the local teenagers pranked Stan by filling his car with snow they had somehow dyed lime-green) and make it enjoyable to play in. Everest loved the snow and made his family laugh one crisp morning when he ran around the yard, hopping like a giant rabbit in the snow. Tate also loved the snow and he and his parents had built a snowman. As much as Ford was enjoying the weather, snuggling up in sweaters and blankets, sipping hot drinks, and curling up to his wife late at night for extra warmth, something was still bothering him.

The young scientist sat in the thinking parlor, alone, the fireplace roaring in front of him as he sat on the couch and had his journals by his right side. He had been thinking about what to do with the journals for a long time, ever since Hephzie and Maddie had used them to find the unicorns and get the magical hair. Ford was well rested, having been sleeping better ever since the spell had been cast, but with so much on his mind and having no way to decipher it all, he was tired and drained in a tortuous way that couldn't be solved with a nap or a cup of coffee.

There was a soft knock on the door before it opened, and Ford looked to find Stan and Hephzie, both wearing sweaters (Stan was wearing red and Hephzie was wearing gray; Ford was wearing blue), and Stan had a tray of hot mugs in his hands while Hephzie opened the door. "Got room for two more?" Stan asked.

Ford smiled. "Always."

They sat with him on the couch and Stan passed around the hot chocolate with extra marshmallows. Everest must still be napping in the living room. Good, they wouldn't have to be worried about him lapping up chocolate. Stan sat on Ford's right side, leaning back, his legs outstretched to enjoy the warmth of the fire, and his free arm dangling off the side of the velvet couch. Hephzie sat with her legs up by her side and leaned against Ford's left side. He smiled down at her, all twelve of his fingers curled around his mug and becoming pleasantly warm. He looked down at his mug thoughtfully. This did not go unnoticed by his wife. "Somethang on your mind, sweetheart?"

Ford took a careful sip of the hot drink, licked his lips free of sticky marshmallow, and then answered. "I've been thinking about what I should do next."

Stan sipped his hot chocolate and said, "Right, your weirdness theory. I guess this whole mess puts you back to square one, huh?"

"Unfortunately." Ford sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "For all I know, Bill might have only lied about where the portal would have opened to, or he also lied about all the weirdness of Gravity Falls coming from another dimension. I suppose that hypothesis could still hold, but apart from Bill's word, I had no evidence of this being true. So, for the time being, the Grand Unified Theory of Weirdness is at a stand-still."

"Well, we've got our whole lives to figure something out." Stan reasoned. "I know you're worried about some guy beating you to the punch, but nobody else is crazy enough to check this place out."

Ford chuckled into his mug. Stop and smell enjoy the roses. Have fun on the journey. Take in moments like this, because you're going to miss them. "That's true. I've also been thinking about what to do with the journals." And Ford looked down at the small stack of books that separated him from his twin.

Hephzie calmly reached over and grabbed the first book, which happened to be Journal 3, and opened it to browse once more. Her eyes never became glossy, so Ford knew she was listening.

"What for?" Stan asked.

"These journals are full of curses and spells and secrets about some of the most dangerous creatures I have ever known." Ford began to explain. "More importantly, though I have spread my information throughout the three books, if combined it could lead to trouble. There's too many details on how to summon Bill or how to build a portal for these books to be safe by any means. I've decided that I want to destroy them."

Stan looked at him surprisingly. After six-and-a-half years of him protectively holding his diary close to his chest, of him writing it in codes, of him spending many nights just drotting down idea or sketching or writing out his feelings and emotions, Ford was really willing to destroy the journals like he did with the portal? The portal Stan could get; that was Bill's work through the mortals' hands, but the journals were all Ford. Still, Stan could understand where Ford was coming from, and he was going to support his brother through thick and thin. "If you're sure, Poindexter." Stan said with a shrug. "What should we do? Throw 'em into the Bottomless Pit?"

"It's honestly a wonder I haven't thrown them into the fire by now." Ford said, his eyes on the lively fireplace that kept the room toasty and comfortable. "But, now that you mention it, throwing them into the Bottomless Pit sounds more ideal."

Stan smiled. "Yeah, we have no idea where they'll go, right? Sometimes things come back, and sometimes they don't. They could go to the center of the Earth and hit some weird caveman guy on the head, or they could be eaten by a dino, or they could go to some other dimension. It's a mystery, but that's what we've been about since we came here, right? Best to have this spooky books end with a mystery so someone else can solve it."

Ford hummed pleasantly at the idea of a child playing and stumbling across a mysterious book and reading about one man's great folly and learning about a world full of weirdness, clues, riddles, and codes. "I would like that."

"I don't think ya should get rid of 'em."

Ford and Stan looked at Hephzie as she continued to look at Journal 3. When Ford looked over her shoulder to see what her brown eyes were glued to, it seemed as if she wasn't reading, but looking at his drawing of a gnome.

"Really, sis?" Stan asked, not sure if he believed her.

"How come?" Ford asked. He thought Hephzie would jump at the chance for them to destroy something that had Ford's attention for far too long.

Hephzie looked up at the men and said slowly as she turned two pages, "Well, I just can't help but think of this boy I once knew a long time ago, who felt out of place in the world. He didn't even feel like he belonged in his own home. So he found refuge in the local library n' read tons of books 'bout people who went on adventures n' found their place in the world."

Ford smiled gently at her and he looked at the page she was on now. He saw his self portrait and tried to ignore the blushing that was coming up in his cheeks. "What is your point?"

"I was just wonderin' if these books could do the same for some other boy, that's all." Hephzie said and closed Journal 3. "Or girl. Who cares. I was just thinkin'... well, what if instead of destroyin' this work, ya published it. I've read all three journals, n' you're a very talented writer. I was captivated the whole time, even if I knew how the story ended. Plus your artistic skills are very impressive, definitely good enough that ya could give up science n' be an artist if ya wanted."

"Or be both like that Leo DaWhatsHisName." Stan pointed out with a laugh.

Hephzie laughed, too. "Whatever."

Ford's blushing was way worse now, so he sipped his hot chocolate and then asked quietly, "Do you really think I should become an author and publish my work?"

Hephzie also sipped her warm drink and said, "You're already an author, Fordsie. Ya just haven't shared that part of yourself with the world yet. Grandpa used to say that everyone has a story to tell, such a vast story that it could fill a library, n' when that person dies it's like that library burns to the ground. Not that your dyin' anytime soon, but it'd be nice if ya shared your library before it's burned down."

"Ya know," Stan said and rubbed his chin. "Ya may be onto something, Hephzie. Didn't Fiddleford say something like that when we went hiking to Crash Sight Omega? He said that we've discovered so much that we don't need a theory to be successful. We could publish now and enjoy whatever it gives."

Ford gave it some deep thought. Stan was right. Fiddleford had said something about publishing without the theory, but Ford had laughed and said it would create a weirdness rush and their names would be lost to history. But what if their names weren't lost to history, because they were never in history? What if Ford's story - he and Stan's story - was discovered by other misfits and children around the world who felt out of place and they had that same wave of hope Ford always had when reading? Reading had a funny thing about taking you away from a world you didn't want to be in. Stories made you imagine new things and dream of better things. Even if Ford never became the next well-known world-famous author, if his story could help one person feel like there was a place where they belonged, then perhaps publishing his work would be well worth it. No, it definitely would be well worth it.

Ford decided to tuck that idea away for another day. "Well, if I'm not destroying the journals, I do think we should destroy all of the Bill artifacts I have in my private study."

"Now that's a good idea." Hephzie said teasingly, though she agreed full-heartedly.

"If we're gonna do that, we shouldn't do it like how we destroyed the portal." Stan said. "We should make a campfire n' invite the McGuckets. Ya know, make s'mores, roast some hot dogs, tell stories, all while using your creepy Bill fanart for fuel."

Ford rolled his eyes at Stan's last comment, but said, "That's a great idea, Stanley. I'll call them tomorrow and see when they would like to have s'mores with us."

"Now, who in their right mind would ever turn down a s'more?" Hephzie joked and the Pines twins laughed. "Especially after the weeks we've had. Sure as hell been one bumpy ride."

"I've come to learn that life is one big bumpy ride." Ford concluded. "But I wouldn't want to do it with anyone else."

"We love you, too, Sixer." Stan said sarcastically and punched his brother's shoulder lightly.

* * *

August 31st, 2000

The three adults stood in the elevator alone. Stan wore tan capri-pants with a blue Hawaiian shirt over an old white undershirt; he watched as the light over the floor number crept upward while the elevator carried the trio up the floors. On Stan's left was his sister-in-law, who had her dreadlocks up in her usual high ponytail, but today she wore a red blouse with her jeans and high heeled boots. She was smiling as her arms were crossed loosely over her chest. On Hephzie's other side was her husband. Ford wore his usual red sweater, looking more like he was about to attend a meeting rather than seeing family. His hands were stuffed in the pockets of his trenchcoat and his limbs trembled, but it was not out of nervousness, rather excitement.

With a small ding, the elevator door opened and the three got off the floor. Hephzie took in a deep breath and smiled. "It's nice to be in a nursery without havin' to work."

"Careful, sis, or they might just put you to work." Stan teased as he jabbed an elbow at Hephzie and she chuckled.

Ford led the way down the sixth floor hall, but they didn't have to go far. Shermie and Daisy were sitting outside of room 18, with Daisy calmly knitting a light brown blanket while Shermie bounced his knee. It had been awhile since the twins had seen Shermie. What, two years? Yeah, that sounds about right.

"You look nervous, Beanpole." Stan joked and the eldest Pines sibling looked up at who had arrived.

Shermie beamed and hugged his little brother, an activity the men didn't really partake in, but Stan hugged him back nonetheless; becoming a grandpa must be getting to him. "It's good to see you, Knucklehead." Shermie teased with a pat on the back and let him go to hug his other brother. "You too, Brainiac. Thanks for being here."

"We wouldn't miss it for the world, Sherman." Ford replied as he hugged his big brother.

Shermie looked over at Hephzie when he let Ford go and smiled. "It's nice to see you too, Hephzie. How's work?"

"Oh, it's fine." Hephzie said with a shrug and a smile, then patted Shermie's back. "So, how's Alex n' Dana?"

Shermie's smile dropped so he could swallow nervously. "Th-They're fine. They're fine. Any minute now."

"Great!" Hephzie said and sat down next to Daisy to talk with her, leaving the Pines boys to talk.

Ford and Stan sat with their brother and distracted the new grandfather by talking about their lives or any news. Shermie was still happy working as a manager for a Federal bank here in Piedmont. Though he was approaching that age where he could retire, he didn't want to just yet. Ford could relate to that, seeing how neither he nor Hephzie had any plans on retiring any time soon.

Ford was immensely grateful that he had taken Hephzie's advice and published his work. He had turned his research into books that had made New York's best seller and has become a classic, described as "vast stories with deep lore and authentic characters that it was almost like the stories were real". Oh, if only they knew. Now Ford simply enjoyed his small wealth by visiting schools and going on vacations with his twin and his wife, mostly his twin, it not being uncommon for Stan and Ford to be off sailing on a small expedition or visiting another country. In fact, in the middle of September, Ford and Stan were planning on sailing the southern part of the Pacific Ocean, visiting Japan and the other islands and planning on returning home in time for Thanksgiving.

So much had changed in the seventeen years since Ford and his family banished Bill. Only Ford, Stan, Hephzie, Fiddleford and Maddie knew the full extent of the false Muse and what he had nearly done to their family, but they had managed to become better people from the bad times. Ford certainly had. He had become determined to be a better man, a better husband, a better brother, and a better friend, and he certainly had. He had grown into a wiser man who learned that pride is the source of shame, not the opposite.

Stan and Hephzie had also changed, but only slightly. They were still the same fun-loving, adventure-seeking, joy-bringing, lifelong friends Ford knew so well. Hephzie continued to save numerous lives at the hospital back in Gravity Falls. Stan had actually started his own business nine years ago, a small tourist trap known as the Murder Hut, a haunted house that many tourists visited along the Redwood Highway, like the Beaver Museum, Granny Sweetkin's Yarnball, Upside-Down Town, Log Land, Corn Maze, and Mystery Mountain.

Fiddleford and Madeline had changed, too. Not only did they add a daughter named Carleen to their family, but after Tate accepted the fact that he had a sister and proved to be a very responsible boy, he finally got that dog he always wanted, a golden retriever named Bella. Fiddleford went on to invent the first cellular phone and make millions off of his technology. Fiddleford Computer-Magigs turned itself into Berri and he released his first iBerri an estimated twenty years earlier than when anything like it would have been released to the public. Berri not only made phones, but laptops and other advancements in technology that made day-to-day living a little easier. Despite making millions, however, Fiddleford actually put most of his money towards research for a cure to dementia and Alzheimer's, while also happily lending a hand to his loved ones, like paying off college loans and credit-card debt. Fiddleford was a humble man who was happy to have a nice house in the quiet woods of Gravity Falls that didn't have a broken screen door.

Ford was beyond proud of his friends and family. He grinned with pride over Hephzie's work at the hospital, at Stan's own steady income and the way his back was straighter from making his own mark on the world, and at Fiddleford and his achievements. As accomplished as Ford felt over the success of his books and the small legacy he would leave behind, that was nothing compared to the pride he had for his loved ones.

An hour or so after Ford, Stan and Hephzie had arrived, the door opened and two nurses and a doctor left. The Pines family sat up straighter and waited until the go-ahead from Shermie's son. A few minutes later, he emerged, a grown man who was now a beaming father. After he quickly greeted his uncles and aunt, Alex asked his family if they were ready to meet someone.

The new mother was tired from the most difficult task anyone could ever perform, but she was wide awake and beaming with pride as she held a little bundle. As the five adults awed at the tiny baby that poked out from the pink blanket, Alex picked up a second bundle from what they had assumed to be an empty crib. The room gasped; Alex and Dana had revealed nothing about the pregnancy, not even the gender(s), wanting everything to be a surprise for their family. Now the new grandparents, great-uncles, and great-aunt knew why the new parents were so secretive.

"TWINS!" Stan and Ford cheered and exchanged a joyful high-six.

"Oh, they're beautiful!" Daisy wailed, excited to spoil her new grandbabies.

"What are their names?" Hephzie asked gently.

"This is Mabel." Dana said as she moved the baby's blanket off of her face for a bit to better show the sleeping newborn. "And that's Mason." She added, pointing to her son that slept soundly in Alex's arms.

"You two makes some good looking kids." Stan said with a crooked smile as he peered down at the baby girl in Dana's arms.

"Thanks." She chuckled weakly. "Wanna hold her, Stan?"

While the new mother handed little Mabel to Stan, Alex happily had Ford hold Mason. Ford smiled proudly down at the newborn twin in his arms and was flooded with such love and pride for the boy, not too different than the same overflow of emotions he felt when he first met Alex and any other children that came into his arms over the years. "He's perfect." Ford complimented as Hephzie stood by his right side and watched the sleeping baby boy.

"You haven't even seen the best part, Uncle Ford." Alex laughed and gently moved Mason's tiny hat off of his forehead to better showcase it.

What Ford thought was some freckles actually proved to be an abnormal and beautiful birthmark that was spread out across Mason's forehead. Little dark dots were connected by a thin line that made an uncanny Big Dipper. Or Little Dipper, depending on who you asked. "The Big Dipper." Ford chuckled.

Meanwhile, Stan's eyes were glued to his grandniece. A part of his brain heard something about a dipper or whatever, but he didn't really care as he held Mabel. She was small and perfect and beautiful. Stan had grown attached to a lot of kids over the years, but she had a special hold of him. This little munchkin was gonna be the death of him.

After a few minutes, Shermie held out his arms. "Alright, Knucklehead, let me see my granddaughter."

"Now hold on there, Beanpole, let me hold her for a few more minutes. Or years."

"Stan!"

Dana was laughing too much over the men's stubbornness to intervene and quite frankly she didn't want to. Ford rolled his eyes at his childish brothers and gently held Mason for a minute more, knowing he should probably give Hephzie a turn, but she seemed to be in no hurry to hold the baby and was happy to hug her husband as he held little Mason. Alex watched with a huge smile on his face as Daisy swiftly took her granddaughter from Stan's arms while he and Shermie argued, his eyes on his daughter.

Not even an hour old and Mabel was already creating havoc. If these new twins were anything like the old twins, the world was in trouble.

 **THE END**


	47. BONUS: Missing You

Set between Carnival and Shifty.

Something I wanted to include, but decided to leave out as it's separate thing, but then changed my mind to try to organize the format. Hints at previous chapters may suddenly make sense.

* * *

 ** _How can you miss someone you have never met?_**

* * *

 **October 1982**

The portal was about halfway finished. As excited as Stanford was to see the portal completed, he had to admit that he would miss working with Stanley and Fiddleford on this project, but once the gateway to other worlds was perfected, those worlds would be their oysters, including their homeworld, and there would be more projects and adventures they could partake in if they chose to do so.

It was October and the atmosphere gave Stanford a comfortable feeling, like his soul was wearing a sweater, as well as his body. When he, Stanley, and Fiddleford weren't working on the portal, they were fishing with Tater on the Stan O War II, or Stanford was sitting on the porch with a hot mug in his polydactyl hands, or he was taking a walk with his wife. Hephzibah was busy in the fall; according to her, it was because babies that were conceived around Valentine's Day were being born, so compared to the other seasons of the year, fall was the busiest time for the nursery at the hospital. As busy as Hephzibah may be, she balanced herself well, as usual, and left room for the things that were most important to her: her family.

One day Hephzibah had a long day-shift, a seven-to-seven, and was home for dinner. After the meal, helping with the dishes, and watching TV, she went to take a shower and go to bed. Stanford stayed up a little longer, catching up on some reading in the thinking parlor before he finally went to bed. Stanford expected her to be asleep, but she wasn't. She sat in bed, washed and in her pajamas, and was looking down at her held hands that rested on her lap without really seeing. If Stanford had to guess, she was deep in thought, but she didn't look troubled.

"Hephzibah, is something wrong?" Stanford asked after he closed the bedroom door and pulled off his black sweater to get ready for bed.

She looked up at him and smiled. "No, just thinkin'."

"Ah. About?" Stanford asked, his tone warm and inviting, intrigued and wondering what conversation they were diving into before drifting off to sleep. Ever since they were children, Hephzibah had been so easy to talk to, be it fashion or music or religion or politics or half-baked ideas or long-lived dreams, this being one of the many, many reasons why Stanford fell in love with her.

Hephzibah took in a deep breath and watched her husband open a drawer for his pajamas. "I was thinkin' 'bout how I was gonna tell ya that I'm pregnant, but I thought it might be best to just say it."

Hephzibah had spoken so casually and had said it in such a calm manner that it took a minute for Stanford to register what she had said. He whipped around with a dropped jaw to look at his wife and his kind face formed the biggest grin Hephzibah had ever seen, right next to the one he wore when she said yes to his proposal of marriage.

"What?!" Stanford hissed happily, only quiet so Stanley wouldn't hear, but if given the chance he would have yelled to the top of his lungs. "Really?!"

Hephzibah nodded and opened her mouth, but Stanford hurried around the bed to her side and got on his knees to hug her tightly. His grip loosened as he had a fear in the back of his head that he would hurt the baby, but he continued to hug his wife as he laughed nervously into her chest. Hephzibah hugged him back and petted his fluffy brown hair.

"Oh, Hephzibah, this is… that's amazing!"

"You're really excited 'bout it?" Hephzibah asked with a nervous chuckle. She had been worried since this wasn't exactly part of the plan that he wouldn't be happy, but when she saw that huge smile, she knew her fears were unfounded.

"Of course I am!" Stanford said and let go just enough to look up at her like the queen that she was. "I mean… yes, we weren't exactly trying, but we had always talked about having children of our own some day, and I think we're ready." He wasn't going to mention the part that it didn't matter if they were ready or not; they were still going to have a baby. Besides, as much as Stanford loved to plan ahead and be prepared, sometimes the best things in life are unplanned. Hephzibah certainly wasn't planned, Sherman's son wasn't planned, heck, Sherman himself and, to an extent, the twins weren't planned.

Hephzibah ran her fingers through Stanford's hair gently and said quietly, "I'm so glad you're excited. I know it won't be easy with the portal…"

"Oh, we'll be finished with the portal by the time the baby gets here." Stanford reasoned and couldn't help but smile even bigger. Just saying that made it feel so real. "And if not, the project can wait."

"Stanford," Hephzibah gasped teasingly. "Willin' to put a hold on work?"

Stanford knew that she was joking, but he also knew that sometimes his actions gave the wrong message as to what was most important to him. "Anything for my family." Stanford said seriously, his heart swelling as he was talking about more than Hephzibah and Stanley now. Stanford held Hephzibah close and allowed his head to rest on her lap, not too far from her stomach. He felt a way of sleepiness overcome him as his wife petted his brown hair, one of her many ways of showing affection, right next to messages and kissing his hands and fingers, and he closed his eyes with that huge smile still on his face. He doubt it would ever go away. "Thank you. Thank you so much. Sweet Lord, a baby… we're going to have a baby… I'm going to be a dad…"

"Don't sell yourself short, sweetheart." Hephzibah chuckled warmly, the kind of chuckle that made Stanford feel like he had laid in a hot bath. Hephzibah was smiling with stinging eyes and she blinked to try to ease the ache. She had wanted to have a baby for a long time, and now not only was she going to have one, she had her husband's love and support. "You're already a dad."

Stanford had no response to that except heavy breaths and he turned his head to bury his face in his wife's abdomen, just where an apple-seed-sized baby laid.

* * *

The next two days Hephzibah was off work. She and Stanford scheduled a doctor's appointment and their plan was to surprise Stanley by showing him the picture of his new niece or nephew when they got back, only keeping the secret for a few days. They agreed that Stanley should be the first to know and after him they were free to tell whoever they please. The day after they found out, Stanford was giddy and showered Hephzibah with love. She tried to remind him that it takes two, but she was sure that she could take his appreciation the entire nine-month journey. Well, more like eight-month journey by now.

The weather was too nice to stay indoors and it was Sunday, so Fiddleford stayed home with his family and the twins made no progress on the portal. Stanley didn't think much of the fact that Hephzibah didn't have any coffee that morning or that Stanford had a certain spring in his step. The young scientist went on a walk with his wife in the woods where they talked about the baby and their hopes and plans. They enjoyed discussing names and nursery themes and tedious conversation topics new parents were granted with. They even brought up the possibility of having twins, something that they agreed would be both amazing and overwhelming.

On Monday morning Stanford woke up full of energy and even hummed to himself in the shower. He let Hephzibah sleep in and he made breakfast. Stanley walked in to find his brother in a cheerful mood that was beyond ordinary and he sat at the table with some coffee. He was tempted to question it, but decided against it.

Hephzibah's doctor's appointment was at ten o'clock and at nine o'clock, Stanford went back to his bedroom in hopes of finding Hephzibah up and dressed, but he found her lying on her side, her back to the door, probably still asleep.

"Hephzibah," He chuckled. "Come on, darling, the appointment is in an hour." Stanford paused when he didn't see her getting up; Hephzibah wasn't entirely a morning person, but she was more of one than Stanford, used to getting up at three-thirty in the morning for work sometimes. "Hey, are you okay?" He checked.

"I don't feel well." Hephzibah mumbled, still not looking at her husband.

"Oh, is it morning sickness?" Stanford guessed kindly, feeling sorry for her if she wasn't feeling good as a consequence for helping their baby grow. "We could get you some ginger ale on our way home and we'll ask the doctor if there is anything we can do for you."

"It's not morning sickness." Hephzibah said quietly. Her tone scared Stanford. He grew tense and held his breath as he waited anxiously for Hephzibah to elaborate, but when she did, he felt like he was made of glass and someone had hurled a rock at him. "I lost the baby." Hephzibah croaked and swallowed.

What cruel irony that it wasn't too long ago that he stood at that very spot in his bedroom as the happiest man alive. Now he was suffering from a deep sense of loss he had never felt before or had expecting to feel. He knew he should say something comforting to his mourning wife, but what do you say at a moment like this? What are you supposed to say to someone after they lose their baby? Stanford was frozen like ice until he heard a sob come from Hephzibah and he saw her whole body tremble.

Stanford found himself able to move again and he climbed up on the bed and bit his lip when he saw Hephzibah's front. Her hand was over her mouth and her eyes were squeezed tight in a sad attempt to keep the tears away and to silence her cries. With a powerful urge to do something, anything, Stanford put a six-fingered hand on her shoulder and laid on his side behind her. Hephzibah turned to him and buried her face in his toned chest as hot tears spilled from her shut eyes. Her mouth uncovered, Hephzibah choked out a sob that sounded like her heart was broken. It probably was. Stanford held her close and tried to comfort her somehow with his hold, having no words, his brain trying to grieve and comfort Hephzibah at the same time.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry." Hephzibah sobbed and repeated over and over again.

Stanford's heart broke when he could tell from her tone that she blamed herself for this. In her eyes, it was her fault that they had lost the baby. With tears in his own eyes that spilled over and rolled down either side of his face, he whispered, "I'm sorry, too. I'm so, so sorry, Hephzibah."

No one said anything else. Hephzibah hugged Stanford tightly and sobbed into his chest, meanwhile he buried his face in her shoulder and allowed himself to let go a little as he rubbed her back and tried to process what happened.

* * *

The next day, Hephzibah had work. Stanford kept a careful eye on her all morning, wanting to suggest to her that she stay home and call in sick, but he also thought that working hard might do her some good, help her get her mind off of her loss, but this may be too soon and Hephzibah might physically need the rest. Still, her eyes were empty and she moved slowly and steadily to go to work and do what she loved, and Stanford had very little strength to stop her, grieving himself.

It had stormed last night and now it was raining. A little after nine o'clock, Hephzibah kissed Stanford softly on the lips rather than her usual quick peek on the cheek goodbye, and she was gone. Stanley gave her and Stanford a curious look behind his newspaper, but his gut told him to keep his mouth shut for once. When Hephzibah never left her room yesterday and Stanley asked about it, Stanford only muttered that her stomach was upset. If one more thing seemed off, Stanley was going to put his foot down and ask.

All day Stanford was quiet. He locked himself in the thinking parlor while the rain pounded on the house and he only came out for lunch. Stanley made chicken noodle soup to beat the cold fall-rain and they sat in front of the TV while they ate. Stanley knew his brother seemed down, guessing it was the weather or he was worried over nothing about his wife, but when they stopped scrolling through channels and found an episode of Stanford's old TV show, Wagon Train to the Stars, Stanford's attitude improved slightly, and though he remained quiet, there was a small smile on his face as he sipped his lunch and watched the show with his brother.

It wasn't until the episode ended and there was a commercial break that the door surprisingly opened and closed. There was no greeting or polite call from Hephzibah, but the sounds of her footsteps and of her slipping off her black leather jacket and hanging it up were recognizable. Stanford left his mostly empty bowl on the floor by the couch and got up to tend to his wife. Stanley listened from the couch and kept his eyes peeled, but he couldn't see them as they were standing at the door and out of view.

"Hephzibah, you're home early." Stanford observed and gently wrapped his arms around her waist, starting a hug, but Hephzibah was quicker, and with a trembling lip she threw her arms around Stanford's neck and hugged him with shaking limbs.

"I couldn't do it… I couldn't do it…"

Stanford had no idea what exactly she couldn't do, but he had an idea of what was bothering her. A sudden realization crashed through his brain and Stanford felt like an idiot for allowing his grieving wife to return to her job as a NICU nurse and a doctor that specializes in delivering newborns. "Hey, hey, it's okay." Stanford whispered as he rubbed her back. "It's alright, you're home now. Stan made soup for lunch. Why don't you go lie down and I'll bring it to you in a few minutes?"

Hephzibah, tearless, pulled away and shook her head, still holding each other but no longer resting their heads side by side. "No, I'm not hungry. I'm just gonna…"

Stanford gave her a concerned look and attempted a sad smile. "Alright, if you're sure." He could let her skip a meal. Her nerves were shot, and to be perfectly honest, Stanford had only eaten the soup to try to feel better and to keep Stanley from worrying. Stanford kissed Hephzibah's forehead and let her walk to their bedroom to rest.

When Stanford entered the living room, Stanley sighed and looked at him carefully, analyzing him like he was just given the task to remember every last detail of his brother. "Alright, Sixer, what's up with Hephzie? She never leaves work early, never! Is she okay?"

Stanford stopped before sitting on the couch and let his head hang with a heavy sigh. Stanley then saw how broken Stanford looked. The way his shoulders slumped, the lost spark in his eyes, his gloomy expression. If Stanley had to guess - and he had no idea why this would be the case - Stanford was mourning. Stanley had seen him mourn once, and that was when Hephzibah's grandfather had died, but even then Stanford didn't look this mournful.

"She had a miscarriage." Stanford answered in a low voice that cracked towards the end.

Stanley's jaw dropped. First off, he had no idea that Hephzibah had been pregnant at all. And now… Stanley didn't know how to feel. He didn't get a chance to feel excited about what might have been because it will never happen. Before he could figure out his own emotions, Stanley put all of his focus on his brother. Stanford then caught Stanley off guard, again, when he sat back on the couch, on Stanley's left, and he then removed his glasses and covered his eyes with one hand, leaning forward so his elbows rested on his knees.

Mouth open like a fish, Stanley started to connect the dots and he understood what had been happening the last few days. "Oh, Ford, I'm so sorry." Stanley said seriously and full-heartedly. He had never been so sorry in his whole life.

A part of Stanford kind of wished that Stanley wasn't in the room so he could let go again, but the greater part of him was grateful to have his brother by his side for this. As much as he didn't want to, he needed to talk about it. "It's just… it's a lot."

Stanley patted his back and offered slowly, "Maybe it'd help to say it out-loud or something."

Stanford sighed and moved his head lower to rub his forehead, his eyes uncovered but unseeing thanks to the blur the world in front of him had become. "Well, let's get the fact that I was actually looking forward to… to… to having the baby out of the way."

Stanley smiled sadly at that. "Yeah?" He had never pegged Stanford as a family man before, but when it was your own…

"Yeah." Stanford replied, smiling mournfully at the idea. "We were both so excited. We… we were going to surprise you after the doctor's appointment, but…" He attempted to clear his tightening throat. "Now I'm just… I don't… Hephzibah's… she needs me right now." Stanford settled on after stumbling for a little bit. "She needs me to be there for her, and I want to be there for her, but… but I'm…"

"Hey, c'mon," Stanley said reassuringly and rubbed his brother's back. "I mean… I know Hephzie just lost… just lost a baby, but you lost one, too, Ford. Don't ever sell yourself short like that. You have just as much right to be upset about this as she does."

Stanford wasn't sure if he could agree with that last part. Hephzibah was the one that had been pregnant and lost the baby. Hephzibah was the one that had to carry around the false idea that this was her fault in some way, shape, or form. Still, maybe Stanley had a point. What was it Hephzibah had said? Stanford already was a dad? Well, not anymore. God, that hurt. Stanford covered his eyes again as he allowed every being of his body to be plagued by the fact that he, too, had lost experienced loss.

"Thank you, Stanley." Stanford croaked. "I'm sorry we didn't tell you sooner..."

"Oh, hey, don't worry about that." Stanley quickly excused. Really, what else was Stanford and Hephzibah suppose to do? "Your secret's safe with me."

After a few seconds, Stanford took in a deep breath, sat up, put his glasses back on, and let the air in his lungs out. "Thank you, Stan, for everything."

Stanley gave him one last pat on the back and sighed, too. He left as if ten pounds had been put on his shoulders. He and Stanford sat quietly in front of the TV for a long time and allowed it, and the rain, to be the only things that made any noise.

* * *

Hephzibah was starting to scare Stanford after a few days without food or water.

Before she had gone to work on Tuesday, she was determined to go on like nothing happened. Depending on who you asked, nothing did happen. Nothing changed. If one chose to look at it a certain way, a clump of cells fell apart inside of Hephzibah's reproductive organs and that's it. Still, if Hephzibah's guess of conception was correct, she had been six weeks pregnant. That was late enough for the baby to have a heartbeat, but does having a heartbeat make it a person or human? Due to Hephzibah's beliefs and her own professional opinion, there was no way she could convince herself that she hadn't lost a baby. Even if the logistics of it didn't matter, how she felt certainly mattered. Hephzibah felt like she had lost a baby. She had been so excited to start a family and to be a mother that now she was completely heartbroken over her loss, but she had to try to move on from this. Maybe doing what she loved would help.

For awhile, going back to work did help. Hephzibah enjoyed the ride to work through Gravity Falls, and she happily greeted her co-workers and the hospital staff with her usual smile and wave. Ms. Nelson gave her a strawberry dum-dum to suck on later and Emmanuel and Hannah, her friends, were working with Hephzibah today. She clocked in at ten o'clock, feeling better and ready to work, until she saw the nursery.

Hephzibah smiled with tears in her eyes at the three NICUs that she had to watch until a nurse-in-training from the local medical school came in after lunch. Hephzibah blinked her tears away, sanitized her hands, and got to work. As a doctor, she couldn't let her personal life affect her work; she had to put her others' needs first and focus on helping struggling parents of NICU babies and tending to the newborns, but she carried one thought with her all day.

" How can you be expected to care for these babies when you couldn't even take care of your own?"

Hephzibah pushed it aside as hard as she could and focused on her job. She busied herself by chatting and singing to the newborns, like she always did, but her heart wasn't into it. By lunch, the mask she had on was cracking like broken clay. She had hit a breaking point when they received another NICU baby.

One had been born at thirty-six weeks three weeks ago and was due to go home soon, another was born at thirty-three weeks a month ago and was making great progress, and the other was a baby born two weeks early and recovering from open-heart surgery. This new baby had been born at thirty-four weeks. The mother was recovering from c-section and the father was with her, so Emmanuel delivered the baby girl to Hephzibah alone and updated her on the baby's medical issues. Hephzibah, however, was hardly listening as she looked down at the NICU. The doctor bit her lip and tried not to cry, but it was getting harder and harder not to as Emmanuel started to hook the baby up to oxygen and poked necessary wires and tubes into the newborn. The baby was mixed. She had a tiny bit of black hair on the top of her head, and when she opened her eyes to cry, they were brown.

Emmanuel noticed that his friend was starting to tear up, something that he had never seen her do, and he knew that something horrible must have happened to make her so upset. "Hephzie! Is… is something wrong?"

Emmanuel was a good man. He was a father of three beautiful girls and was a loving husband. He had been a doctor a little longer than her, only about a year, and he specialized in the health of the mothers and delivering babies. Maybe he would understand. "I lost… I lost…"

Emmanuel made the connection extremely quickly. He looked down at the mixed, crying newborn, and he knew that Hephzibah, a black woman, was married to a white man, and if she had recently suffered a miscarriage… "What?! Oh, Hephzibah, I am so sorry. Wait, what are you doing here, then?! You should be at home!"

"No, I'm sorry, I can…" Hephzibah stubbornly wiped her tears away, but Emmanuel interrupted.

"No, listen. You need to go home. The details are none of my business, but if what you're trying to say is true than you have no business working. We can handle things without you for a few days. Look, you work today and tomorrow and then your off for two days, right? Just take the four days off and come back on Saturday. No one deserves the time off more than you do." Emmanuel said and patted her shoulder with a kind smile.

Hephzibah smiled and thanked him for not only being an amazing co-worker and boss, but a great friend. As much as she wanted to help the babies, she knew she couldn't do so properly right now. It was best to go home and take care of herself so when she came back to work she could be the best doctor capable. So she obeyed the doctor's orders and went home.

Hephzibah locked herself in her bedroom, emotionally drained from the short day at work, and cried herself to sleep. She woke up about six o'clock and felt like crud, with no energy or will to get out of bed, so she laid there and wallowed in her thoughts. Later, about eleven o'clock, Stanford came to bed, but Hephzibah pretended to be asleep. He kissed her cheek goodnight, but it would be another four hours until she fell asleep and was awoken by a nightmare. Hephzibah woke up around seven o'clock, laid awake for a few more hours, and then fell asleep again. When she woke up, she was alone in the bedroom. She didn't know how to feel about that. This torturous pattern of falling asleep and lying awake continued, only leaving the bed to use the restroom, for that was all the strength she had for.

Stanford would knock on the door, enter, and quietly inform her that lunch or dinner was ready, but she always pretended to be asleep if she was awake and she never joined the twins for meals. Hephzibah knew she would feel better if she, at least, took a bath and put on clean pajamas, but she didn't feel worthy of such comforts.

Hephzibah felt like the worst human being on the face of the Earth. If there really was a just God out there, He should strike her down right now and send her to Hell, because that's all she deserved. Not only did Hephzibah fail to do her job as a doctor, but she had failed as a mother. She had only been one for such a short period of time and, thanks to her incapability, she and Stanford wouldn't get the chance to be parents to that poor little baby.

Oh, God, what if she had been pregnant with twins?! What if she had failed two babies?! Hephzibah threw up when that thought came to her. How many times had Hephzibah tried to bring some comfort to some woman who had also suffered a miscarriage? What had she had said to them? This isn't your fault? There was nothing else you could have done? It'll be okay? Is there anything I can do for you? I'm here for you? You'll be okay? What empty, pathetic words! Hephzibah was complete scum for thinking for one second that any of that would help anybody! She called herself a doctor?! She dared to consider herself a mother for a moment?! She didn't deserve it! She didn't deserve any grace or mercy or comfort! She didn't deserve to live! So why bother?!

The day after Hephzibah came home early from work, Wednesday, she stayed in the bedroom. Stanford, Stanley, and Fiddleford resumed work on the portal; the twins worried for her, but they knew her well enough to leave her alone for now. When Fiddleford asked what was wrong, Stanford quickly said that she was sick, so Fiddleford wished her a speedy recovery and they resumed building the portal to other worlds. The work did help take the twins' minds off of everything that had happened, and spending time with Fiddleford definitely made a difference, but when he went home and it was time for dinner, Stanley and Stanford couldn't help but look at the kitchen chair Hephzibah usually occupied with gloomy expressions.

Thursday was the same as Wednesday. On Friday, Stanford's misery was too apparent to ignore or write off as something else.

"She hasn't been eating." Stanford let slip as he tried to reread the blueprints, but his brain wasn't functioning properly and he could hardly register the provided information.

"Who, Hephzie?" Fiddleford checked as he typed away on his personal computer prototype.

"No, the Queen of England." Stanley said sarcastically.

Fiddleford rolled his eyes and asked, "Well, when was the last time she ate?"

Stanford did the math and tried to remember the last time he saw Hephzibah eat something. They were at dinner the night before the doctor's appointment they never went to. That was… "Five days ago." Stanford sighed and ran his hand through his brown hair.

Stanley quit tightening a bolt at the desk and looked at his brother. This had to be some sick joke, right? She had coffee or something before going to work at least, right? No, Stanley remembered. She never went to breakfast. She slept in and went to work.

Fiddleford paused his typing and looked up to see the distressed look on his best friend's face. He had seen his old college roommate worried or depressed a handful of times, but this was a strong mixture of the two to such a degree that Fiddleford had yet to see, and he didn't like it. If Hephzibah's health was scaring Stanford this much, then she must not be doing well at all. Five days is a long time not to eat or drink. "Well, if ya want, we can stop for the day n' take her t'see a doctor." Fiddleford offered as he closed his computer.

Stanford sighed and stood up, slouched, and he walked slowly out of the lab for the elevator. "I don't think that will help matters, buddy, but thank you. I'm going to go try to talk to her."

"Uh, o-okay." Fiddleford stuttered as his friend left, leaving him alone with Stanley, who seemed down, too. Not as much as his brother, but still not himself. "Hey, Stan? Is there somethang wrong with Hephzie y'all aren't tellin' me? I get it, she's family, but… but she's still my friend, n' I'd like t'help if I can."

Stanley took in a deep breath and let it out as he studied Fiddleford. It wasn't fair to leave their friend in the dark, but then again it wasn't entirely fair to tell him without permission from Hephzibah or Stanford and it most definitely wasn't fair that… what happened to them happened to them. Stanley also considered the worried look in Fiddleford's eyes, and though the twins' had known Hephzibah since they were children, Fiddleford and Madeline had become close friends of her's in college and were just as good as family. They even had their son, Tater, call them Uncle Stan, Uncle Ford, and Auntie Hephzie. Stanley rolled his desk chair to Fiddleford, put a strong hand on his shoulder, and began to explain what the love birds were going through.

Meanwhile, Stanford tried to think of what to do. Should he try to coax Hephzibah into leaving the bedroom to eat something, or should he bring the food to her in hopes that she'll eat? He decided to try a gentler, more light-hearted approach first, if he could pull it off. With a glass of water in his hand and a package of oreos under his arm, Stanford tapped a knuckle on the bedroom door just loud enough that if she was asleep she would wake up. Stanford decided that he had allowed her to pretend to be asleep long enough.

He let himself into his own bedroom and opened the door quietly, allowing the creek of the door to let Hephzibah know that he was entering the room, but still wanting it to be pleasant to the ear. The curtains were drawn, blocking the sunlight, and the lights were off, the only source of light coming from the hall. Hephzibah's back was to the door as she laid on the left side of the bed (as usual). She wasn't asleep. Stanford could tell.

"Hephzibah, sweetheart, how are you feeling?" He asked tenderly.

"M'fine." She replied in a cracked voice from lack of use, seeing that there was no use pretending to be asleep.

Stanford sat at the edge of the bed, put the package of cookies aside, and gently rested his free hand on her left shoulder. "You would probably feel better if you had a snack." He offered and gave her shoulder a squeeze. "Come on, you need to stay hydrated."

"I'm not thirsty, thanks." Her voice was so… empty. It might be better if she sounded mad at him for trying to get her to do something she didn't want to do, but she wasn't even irritated or annoyed. There was no emotion, no feeling, no life in her voice. And it killed Stanford.

He swallowed to try to keep his throat from tightening. "I know, but you have to drink some water." Stanford said in as much of an optimistic tone as he could muster, but it sounded like a weak attempt.

Hephzibah didn't move or even argue with him. Oh, God, how far gone was she? A terrifying idea crawled up his spine like a spider and it nearly destroyed Stanford. If he was as knowledgeable of the human body as he thought he was, a person can go ten days without food or water until death. A person can go for weeks without food if needed, but water is a completely different story. Activity and temperature also factored the time a human had. It wasn't like Hephzibah was stranded in the middle of a dessert and had no access to water. Stanford had no idea why, but Hephzibah was denying herself basic necessities for survival.

He waited for her to change her mind, to turn around and accept the snack, but she didn't. She didn't even fight him. The spark was gone. Oh, God, not her! Not her, too! Soon Stanford couldn't take the deafening silence anymore. He wanted to be a man and be strong for his wife, but he couldn't when threatened with losing her, too.

Stanford got up from the bed and circled it to look at Hephzibah's front. She had bags under her eyes and already her cheeks were a little sunken in. Her eyes were open and dull, her right arm under her pillow and her left draped by her side, her finger tapping the mattress as light as a feather and giving her something to look at that wasn't her husband. Stanford knelt in front of her and held out the glass of water to her.

"Hephzibah, please." He begged and used his free hand to run it through her dreadlocks. He didn't care that they were greasy and dirty. He rested his hand on the top of her head and petted her like an injured animal. Stanford bit his lip and tried one more time to get her to take care of herself and do one thing that would prove that she wasn't going anywhere. "Please. You have to drink it. I… I can't lose you, too."

Something snapped in Hephzibah when she saw that tear roll down the side of his face and being wiped away vigorously by a clenched fist. The act was pointless, seeing how more tears followed the first. Stanford lifted his glasses up to his forehead and he pinched at the corners of his eyes to try to regain some control, but it was useless. A quiet moan escaped his lips and Hephzibah sat up a little, prompting her body up by resting her right elbow on the bed. "Hey, hey," She said softly as she put a hand to his cheek and gently wiped some of his tears away with her thumb. "You're not gonna lose me, Stanford, I promise."

He sat the glass on her nightstand and buried his face on the mattress. He crossed his strong arms by his head and gave himself permission to cry. It didn't matter if it was "unmanly" or not. Stanford was so tired of putting up a front and pretending it was okay because it wasn't okay! Nothing about this situation was okay! When he felt Hephzibah's hands try to bring him into a hug, he uncrossed his arms and used them to hold her close as he cried over his loss and over his fears and over his insecurities.

Hephzibah was stunned as she hugged Stanford and kissed the side of his head. She had been so busy mourning her own loss that she hadn't stopped to think how Stanford might feel. Well, that wasn't true. She had convinced herself that he was miserable and upset and hurt, and that he shouldn't have to put up with one more thing because of her, but here he was, falling apart all because some worthless heap of human flesh wasn't operating as it should?

No. No, she was more than just a sack of organs held together by skin tissue and blood. She wasn't a failed mother or a waste of space. She was a force to be reckoned with. She was a hard-working doctor who gave her all every time. And she was the luckiest woman on the planet, because she was married to a wonderful man, the only man she would want to be the father of her children, the only man she wanted to grow old with, but she couldn't very well do that if she gave up. If giving up caused this much pain to the man she loved, made him this upset, hurt him this much, than giving up wasn't an option for Hephzibah anymore.

As she held him tightly by the shoulders, she sneakily freed a hand and averted her eyes to the glass of water. She slowly took it, drank half of it, and sighed to herself as she sat it back down and used both hands to comfort her husband. She already felt better after that little bit of water. "I'm not goin' anywhere." Hephzibah whispered with a smile on her lips and she used said-lips to kiss Stanford's fluffy hair again. "I promise."

Stanford's crying didn't cease, but he did believe her. He just wasn't done spilling his well, which was just fine by Hephzibah.

After a few minutes, Stanford collected himself and Hephzibah sat up fully to finish her water. Stanford quickly went to the kitchen to refill the glass, and when he returned he found Hephzibah snacking on some oreos. They sat on the bed, ate cookies, and quietly chatted about anything they wanted to talk about and nothing they didn't want to talk about. When the cookies were gone, Hephzibah took a much needed shower and Stanford left the room to get a little bit of work done before dinner, which Hephzibah swore she would attend to. Stanford didn't even get to the elevator, however, when it opened on it's own and Fiddleford and Stanley exited it.

"Hey," Fiddleford said sympathetically as he hurried to his friend. "I… is Hephzie okay?"

Stanford smiled a little and nodded, looking more hopeful than he had in days. "Yeah… yeah, she's okay. We'll both be okay."


End file.
